Disappear
by MysteriousSherlock
Summary: Shane Morden, a fifteen year old with his future already planned out, didn't want to move to London. But when his parents force him to do just that, he meets a girl who will change his life forever. Kenzie Riverston, a genius with a hard life and a secret that will plunge the two of them into a deadly world of danger and adventure.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own the TV series, Sherlock. That rightfully belongs to the BBC. I only own the majority of the plot (the parts I don't own are the parts where the story crosses over with series 3), and the OCs, details of whom can be found on my profile.**

**Hello everyone!**

**So, I'm MysteriousSherlock, and this is my first ever Sherlock FanFiction. I hope you like it!**

**So, I started getting the idea for this after I finished watching season two last year... the story has developed quite a bit since then (partly because of the stuff that happens in season three), and this is the result.**

**I named this story after the song, ****_'Disappear'_**** by Evanescence (there is a link at the bottom of the chapter, if you want to listen to it). I did this because I felt it, in a way, reflected the thoughts and feelings of one of the characters at a certain, important point in this story.**

**This first chapter is basically a prologue, and probably won't make ****_too_**** much sense at first - but all will be revealed in a few chapters time.**

* * *

Chapter 1 - Prologue

Third Person

The girl stood in the shadows, waiting, silently. She wore a coat with a hood, which was currently pulled up over her head, making it impossible to see her face.

She was worried. He was late - and he was never late. Not for her, anyway. Then again, from the little news she'd managed to hear, she imagined that things couldn't be easy for him at the moment. That's what worried her - what if he'd been arrested? The things they'd been saying about him on the news... if it was proven true, some of it could prove to be enough to put him in jail.

But he was too smart for that. She _knew_ he was too smart to get arrested. If there were no way to prove his innocence, then he'd simply go into hiding.

Maybe that was why he was late. Maybe he was having problems getting here - or maybe he wasn't coming at all, for fear of getting caught.

But if that were the case, he would have texted to let her know. And she had received no such text. Which lead her back to the original question:

_Where was he?_

She waited for another half an hour, before reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out a simple, cheap phone. She typed out a text and sent it to him:

_Where are you? Are you okay?  
KR_

After another half hour, when there was still no reply, she sent another text:

_Please. I'm worried about you.  
KR_

But there was still no reply. She waited another few hours, before sending another few texts.

_If this is about what they've been saying on the news, I want you to know that I don't believe a word of it. I know you're not a fake or a fraud.  
KR_

_Please reply. I don't care what it is - just send me SOMETHING so that I know you're ok.  
KR_

_Please, Dad. You're really worrying me.  
KR_

Even so, there was still no reply. Finally, she accepted the fact that he wasn't coming, turned, and walked away.

The sky was beginning to become less dark. Dawn was rapidly approaching. The local newsagent already had that day's newspapers out in a stand in front of the shop.

Curious, the girl stopped to read the headlines. When she did so, she stumbled back, gasping in shock and disbelief.

_'Suicide of fake genius.'_

She shook her head. No, she was just jumping to conclusions - it wasn't referring to _him_. It couldn't be - he would _never_ do that... would he?

She approached the stand again, and read the beginning of the article:

_'Sherlock Holmes, once known as a great detective and recently revealed to be a fraud, committed suicide yesterday...'_

The girl turned away, not wanting to read any more. Tears blurred her vision as she walked away, stumbling, her pace quickening, until she was running, running away from the pain, from the loss, from the grief, from the confusion, from _reality_.

She turned into a deserted alleyway, and fell to her knees. Sobs wracked her entire body as she cried hopelessly.

"Why...?" She whispered, so softly an observer would have believed it to be simply the wind and their ears playing tricks on them. Then, her voice rang out in an anguished cry. _"Why?!"_

Her fingers fumbled in her pocket, searching for her phone. She checked it for a reply, hoping that it was all a mistake, that he was alive. But there was still no reply. Nothing to apologize, nothing to explain why he was so late.

Because he wasn't late. He wasn't coming - he never would. Never again.

Because he was dead.

* * *

**So, that's the prologue - the main story starts in the next chapter, in which you meet Shane Morden, and then, in the following chapter, you'll meet Kenzie. But in the mean time...**

**What do you think so far? What are your theories? Review and tell me!**

**And here's a link to the song, ****_'Disappear'_****, by Evanescence - I do not own the video, and I'm not entirely sure the lyrics are correct in a few places, but it's the best I could find. As FanFiction never lets me post full links, I have come up with a little method for posting them... Basically, if you type the YouTube address into the address bar, then copy and paste the following after it, then you'll be able to access the video ;)**

**_'Disappear' by 'Evanescence':  
_****/watch?v=uDjWY0MOPPw**

**Till next time (which will be next week)!**

**_MS_**


	2. A New Home

**Disclaimer: I do not own the TV series, Sherlock. That rightfully belongs to the BBC. I only own the majority of the plot (the parts I don't own are the parts where the story crosses over with series 3), and the OCs, details of whom can be found on my profile.**

**Hello there!**

**So, here is the second chapter - and I have literally just realized how incredibly short it is. So I thought I should let you know that, generally, my chapters are longer than this - with other stories they have averaged at about 3,000 words each of just writing, and have (on occasion) been as large as 10,000. So, basically, what I'm trying to say is, if you think the chapters are too short, do not worry - once I've got into the story, the chapters will be longer.**

* * *

_THREE MONTHS LATER..._

Chapter 2 - A New Home

Shane's POV

"Matt, are you _sure_ we packed those CDs? I don't remember packing them..." Mum called.

"Yes dear, I remember quite clearly putting them in a box and loading the box with all the others onto the removal van," Dad replied, from the other side of the flat.

I sighed, looking around the empty room that I used to call my bedroom. I would miss this place. I didn't want to leave.

"Shane?" Mum called. "Shane, have you checked your room to see if you've left anything?"

"Yes Mum, I've checked my room," I called back.

"In which case, I think we've checked everywhere. Come on down, Shane - it's time to go. You too, Matt."

Reluctantly, I turned away from the room and made my way to the front door. Mum was there, waiting. Seeing my expression, she gave me a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry Shane," she said. "I know you don't want to move to London, but your father has been offered a good job there, and... well, you know how much his work means to him."

"Yeah," I said, bitterly. "It means heck of a lot more to him than your social life and my education."

"Oh Shane, don't be like that..."

"You have loads of friends here, who you'll lose touch with, and you don't know anyone in London, so you'll be lonely. I may not have friends here, but I'm at a good school, doing the subjects I want to do - but now we're moving to London, so I'll have to go to a new school where everyone's already picked their GCSE subjects, meaning I have to do whatever's left. What if, for some reason, I can't do triple science, meaning I can't take any of the sciences at A-level and I can't go to study forensics at university? That'll be my whole future out the window!"

"Son, I'm _sure_ you'll be able to take triple science." Dad had reached the door, and had overheard the last part of what I was saying. "Besides, you don't _need_ to have taken triple science GCSE to do the sciences at A-level."

"But it's highly recommended that you do," I argued. "Not to mention, you are more likely to get higher grades at A-level if you have taken triple science."

"Son, I'm sure there won't be a problem with you studying any of the subjects you want to study," Dad reassured. "Besides, this flat is sold and we've bought a new one - there's no going back now."

Reluctantly, I gave in and went to the car. I sat in the back, immediately plugged in my earphones and turned the volume on my iPod up as far as it would go. Just because I had given in didn't mean that I was any happier about the decision to move.

Truth be told, it wasn't the fact that we were moving that upset me. I didn't have any friends - and who knew, maybe I'd actually make some in London. Mum had always been very good at keeping in touch with people, so the friends she was leaving behind weren't really a problem, and she was also very good at meeting new people - she'd easily make at least one new friend within the first few days in London. My education wasn't exactly too much of a problem - even if I couldn't take the subjects I wanted to, I'd figure something out. I always do.

No, what upset me was that Dad would make the decision to move at such a crucial point in my education. I knew that I'd be okay, but I still couldn't believe that he'd take the risk of my future to better his own career. Weren't parents supposed to put their children first?

Then again, there had been something not quite right about him lately. He had been acting strangely, not like himself - it was barely noticeable, but it was there. I guess that he was probably worried about the decision to move - and about how I'd react.

I think I'd reacted well, considering how I felt. I hadn't yelled at him - not that I ever _do_ yell at him - I'd merely tried to get him to see my point of view. I'd then got rather irritated when he hadn't shown any signs of understanding my worries, but I'd done my best to tone it down as much as I could.

I shut my eyes and tuned everything out. To calm myself down, I mentally recited all the information we'd learnt so far in GCSE chemistry - which was only three weeks worth of knowledge. Once I'd gone through chemistry, I went onto biology, then physics and then maths. Once I'd finished doing _that_, I tried constructing puzzles in my head, seeing how difficult I could make them.

It also helped to pass the time, and before I knew it, we had arrived at the new flat. Looking up at the building, it didn't look too bad. It looked like I might be able to, one day, call it home.

I put the iPod away and got out the car. I was followed by Mum and Dad, who lead the way up the stairs to the flat that would be our home.

It was a reasonable size - a bit smaller than our previous flat, but not by much. We had a look round and decided which bedroom would be theirs, which would be mine, and which would become Dad's study.

When the removal van finally arrived, we unloaded it and started to unpack it. First was the furniture - this was hard work to carry up the stairs, but after an hour of struggling, we managed it. Next was carrying the boxes of belongings up the stairs, which was easier but took just as long.

Once everything was off the van, it drove off, leaving us to sort everything into the correct places. Thankfully, we'd labeled all the boxes as to which room the contents had come from, so this task wasn't as difficult as it could have been.

Since Mum and Dad didn't want me interfering with the majority of the flat, they let me shut myself in my room and unpack my own stuff. After a bit of experimenting with the furniture, moving it around, I found the arrangement that I liked best. I then started unpacking the easiest things - in other words, putting the clothes in my wardrobe, and the books on the bookcase.

I then started unpacking the rest of my belongings. On a small, metal-topped table, I placed the small amount of scientific equipment my parents had allowed me to have - they'd drawn the line on potentially dangerous substances, which to them meant the majority of chemicals. Unfortunately, this rule meant that a lot of equipment was completely pointless, so I hadn't bothered buying any of _that_, so I didn't have much.

Various items went in drawers and cupboards. I took my phone and iPod out of my pocket and placed them by my bed on an overturned box, which would temporarily serve as a bedside table.

Finally, I placed my laptop and a webcam on my desk. I had received the webcam not too long ago as a fifteenth-birthday present, and I hadn't yet had the chance to use it. However, I had recently had the idea of starting a video blog about my new life in London - I didn't know if it would work particularly well, but I figured I might as well give it a try. If nothing else, if things didn't work out in this new life, it would be a welcome distraction from being mad at Dad.

But before I even started thinking about starting the vlog, I needed to look into schools in the local area.

I opened my laptop, switched it on, and did a search on Google for nearby schools. For each one, I looked into the GCSE subjects they offered, and which exam board they used for each one. After creating a list of schools that matched my criteria, I picked up my mobile and started asking about places - firstly seeing if they had places in their Year 10 year group, and then seeing if they had places in the classes I wanted to take.

Each time, the answer to one of these questions was 'NO', and each time I felt myself getting steadily more and more worried, until I only had one school left to try.

I dialed the number, and fought down the churning worry I was experiencing.

After a few sounds of the dial tone, a cheerful-sounding woman picked up the phone.

"Hello, Saint Octavian's High School, how can I help you?"

"Hello, my name's Shane Morden. I've recently moved into the area, and I was wondering if you had any places available in Year 10..."

"Hang on a moment, just let me check..." There was a pause. "Yes, we have a place. Is the place for you?"

"Yes. I actually have another question - if I were to attend this school, would I be able to take triple science, IT, Latin and history?"

"Well, we definitely provide those courses, but I'll have to check if there are any places left in the classes, give me a second..." Another pause. "Yes, you would be able to take those classes, as well as the core subjects of course."

"That's good to hear, thank you... Please could I have that place?"

"You'll need to come over with a parent or guardian and fill out some forms, but yes, you may. When will you be coming?"

"If you give me a moment, I'll see if one of my parents can come with me now..."

I covered the microphone and walked through to the living room, where my parents were moving the sofa.

"What is it, Shane?" Mum asked, giving me a slightly tired smile.

"I've found a school that I'd like to go to. Would it be possible to go down now and fill out some forms to secure my place? I think you two need a break from moving around the furniture."

They exchanged looks. Mum looked okay with it, but Dad looked unsure. She sent him a hard look that I could have sworn said, _'You've messed up his education enough already - don't you _dare_ tell him 'no'.'_

He gave in. "All right, as long as you give me a map so that I know where I'm going."

"Thanks." I uncovered the microphone and raised my phone back to my ear. "We'll make our way down as soon as we can, if that's okay."

"That's great," the woman at the other end confirmed. "See you soon."

She hung up, and I did the same.

Dad frowned. "Son, are you sure you've thought this through?"

"That's what I've been doing for the past hour, Dad. I've looked at all my options - I'm not sure it's a great school, but it's the only one that has a space in year 10, does the right subjects, with the right exam boards, and has spaces in all those subjects."

Dad's frown deepened. "Why are you concerned about the exam boards?"

I rolled my eyes. "Different exam boards cover different material - which might make some of what I've been doing in school till now completely pointless."

He sighed. "All right then."

I went and printed off the map he had requested. The three of us then got into the car and spent the extremely short car journey sitting in silence.

* * *

Once we had filled in the forms and we had been told what the school uniform was, we left for home.

"Starting school tomorrow, the day after we moved house - are you sure that's not going to be a bit much for you Shane?" Mum asked, concernedly.

"Mum, I'll be fine."

"Maybe you should wait until you've got the uniform."

"The uniform's practically the same as my old one - I just have to wear a different blazer. Waiting for a blazer before going to school is a bit ridiculous, if you ask me."

She sighed. "All right then, if you're sure."

The car eased to a stop, and I got out and entered the flat. I went straight to my room to sort things out for school tomorrow - I dug out my school bag, and into it I put a pencil case and a book on forensics. I had been told that exercise books and textbooks would be provided for me, but that I may need a book to read during registration. I wouldn't need a pack lunch, as they had a canteen where I could buy lunch.

It was then that I realized that I had completely sorted myself out, and I still had an hour before dinner. My eyes rested on the web cam on my desk. I had enough time to make my first video for the blog.

I switched on my laptop, connected the camera, and started filming. Once I had finished that, I then edited it. I then started to watch the finished result:

_"Hi, my name's Shane Morden. I'm fifteen years old, and today I moved to London-"_

"Shane! Dinner!" Mum called.

"Coming!" I called back.

I switched everything off, and sat at the table. Once dinner was finished, I went to bed, not even having the time to upload the first video onto YouTube.

As I drifted to sleep, I wondered what my life would be like in London. Would it be much different to the life I had led before?

Little did I know that, the very next day, my life would be changed forever.

* * *

**Ok, so, what did you think? Please review and let me know - and also let me know what you thought of Shane, particularly as I'm worried that I may have portrayed him as whiney, which he isn't supposed to be.**

**So, in the next chapter, you will be meeting Kenzie, our other main character. Hope you're looking forward to it, and... see you next time!**

**_MS_**

**P.S. I forgot to mention, I now have a tumblr account specially for my FanFiction identity - the link is on my profile, under 'about me', and if you go on there you can ask me, or my characters, any questions you like.**


	3. Kenzie Riverston

**Disclaimer: I do not own the TV series, Sherlock. That rightfully belongs to the BBC. I only own the majority of the plot (the parts I don't own are the parts where the story crosses over with series 3), and the OCs, details of whom can be found on my profile.**

**So, here it is: chapter three. And, as you may have guessed from the chapter name, you finally get to meet Kenzie :).**

**Anyway, thank you to ****_Empire of Fiction_**** for favouriting and following the story, and thank you to ****_shinigamigymnast13_**** for favouriting it. Also, thank you to the following people who reviewed:**

**_Empire of Fiction:_****Hello there! Thank you so much for reviewing! As for Shane's first day, well I think it will probably span into a couple of chapters, as it is quite important ;). This chapter goes over the first part of his day, and ends with a bit of an unexpected turn, to say the least. I hope you enjoy the story!**

**_TheShapeshifter100:_****You really should watch any Sherlock that you haven't already - it's amazing! (Though I am a fangirl, so I am a tiny bit biased ;) ) Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll be focusing more on the actual videos and filming them than the editing - but if I decide to include editing, then I will be sure to ask you :).**

* * *

Chapter 3 - Kenzie Riverston

Shane's POV

The next day, when I got to school, I went straight to reception. I walked up to the woman at the front desk.

She looked up from what she was typing. "Can I help you?" she asked, politely.

"Yes," I replied. "I'm new here - this is my first day. My name is Shane Morden - do you have a timetable or something for me?"

She smiled. "Ah yes, here it is." She picked up some pieces of paper and what looked like a notepad from her desk and handed them to me. "Here's your timetable, a map of the school to help you find your way around while you're still getting used to the place, and your planner. Inside your planner you'll find the school rules, the uniform and a diary in which you write your homework. Also, you need to copy your timetable onto the back page of your planner."

"Right. Thanks." I took them, and looked through what she'd given me. I glanced at the timetable. "Uh, the timetable has two different weeks - which week is it?"

"Week One," she replied. "That's also in the planner. Oh, and from eight forty till nine, in other words right now, is registration - your form is 10C. Registration, for 10C, is in room 12 - that's one of the history rooms. Your form tutor is Mrs Evans."

"Thanks. I'll make my way over there right away."

I looked at my map to see that the history corridor was quite close. I navigated my way to it, and then checked the numbers on the doors to find room 12. I knocked on the door and opened it.

Inside was a class of boys and girls from all sorts of different types of crowds, and an irritated teacher.

She was dressed formally, as all teachers are, in heels, black trousers, a matching blazer and a white blouse. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun, and her eyes were framed by a pair of glasses.

"Why are you so late?" she snapped. "And where is your blazer?"

I looked round the class, to see that everyone was staring at me. They were also all wearing blue blazers with the school logo on the top pocket.

"Sorry Miss... I'm new here," I explained. "I was just down in reception getting my timetable. As for the blazer... I haven't had a chance to get one yet."

"Oh." Her tone and expression softened. "My apologies, I didn't realize. I didn't know I had anyone new coming to the form - are you sure you're in the right room?"

"I think so... This is 10C, right?"

She nodded. "In which case, you must be in the right room. What's your name?"

"Shane," I replied. "Shane Morden."

She checked something on her laptop. "Ah, I see you're on the register. Well, I am Mrs Evans, as I'm sure they told you down in reception, and this horrible lot is your new tutor group." The humorous glint in her eyes told me that she was joking about them being a _'horrible lot'_.

I looked around again. They were all still staring at me, as though trying to work out what kind of a person I was. None of them looked like they were actually getting anywhere with this - and how could they, when they'd only seen me and heard me speak a couple of times?

Then I noticed a girl in the far left hand corner of the room, sitting at a table on her own. Her curly hair was black, and her blue eyes were studying me in a way that felt as though she was really _seeing_ me - that from one look, she could see everything about me.

Mrs Evans voice brought me back to earth. "Shane, if you'd like to sit in that empty space next to Alicia, over there." She pointed out a blonde girl.

"But Miss, that's where Ella sits!" the girl, whose name was clearly Alicia, objected.

"I am fully aware of that," Mrs Evans said. "That is precisely why Shane will be sitting there - you and Ella talk _far_ too much."

I sat down next to Alicia, and Mrs Evans took the register. After that, Mrs Evans left the classroom for a moment to get something, telling the class to remain silent.

Of course, that instruction got ignored. The whole class started talking and gossiping, creating such a loud noise I was surprised Mrs Evans didn't come back and tell us off.

I turned to Alicia. "Sorry about getting your friend moved."

"It's okay," she told me, tossing her hair with a sugar-sweet smile. "It would have happened anyway, and you seem nice enough."

"Um... Thanks?" I wasn't sure if that was meant as a compliment or not.

"You're welcome. I'm Alicia."

"I gathered... I would tell you my name, but you already know it."

"That I do." She made an exaggerated gesture of putting her hand above her heart. "In fact, I am such a socially high-up figure, I know everything you could want to know about everyone in this room - besides you, of course." The last part was added hastily, in a way that suggested it wasn't important. "If there's anything you want to know, just ask."

"All right then..."

I looked across the room at the dark-haired girl who had caught my attention earlier. She was currently gazing into space, deep in thought.

"Who's she?" I asked Alicia.

Alicia followed my gaze and scowled momentarily, before covering it up with an expression that looked sympathetic, though I knew she meant it to be something else. I was getting the feeling that Alicia was one of those popular girls who thought themselves better than everyone else. Everything she did felt fake.

"That," she replied, "is Kenzie Riverston. You don't want to bother yourself with _her_."

"Why not?" I asked, liking Alicia less and less by the second.

"She's a freak. She's super smart - which I don't have a problem with - but she acts like she's even smarter than she is. She... She _knows_ things - I don't know how she finds them out - and then she says she _figured it out herself_, just by _observing_ the person or whatever."

"How do you know that she isn't telling the truth?"

"Wait till you _hear_ some of her crazy observations. Like, the other day, Ella's boyfriend managed to sneak into school at break to see her. After he left, Kenzie came and said she wanted to _'warn'_," Alicia emphasized the word with air quotes, "Ella that he was cheating on her. Apparently she could tell from the crumples on his shirt, or something stupid like that. I mean, _come on_, who can tell that a guy is cheating on someone from his _shirt_?"

Thankfully, I didn't have to reply to that - I didn't know _how_ to reply - as Mrs Evans walked in, and the whole class fell silent. She gave the class a suspicious glance, before returning to her desk without comment.

She checked the time. "All right, so we've got five minutes, which isn't enough time to do much. Therefore... I think we should have a short round of the form competition."

She turned to me. "Shane, you're on team two, which is the whole of your half of the room. Basically, the form competes in various different activities to win points. The team that has the most points at the end of each half term wins prizes."

She turned back to face the whole form. "Right, we need to do something quick... Ah, I know - riddles. Team one - a riddle, or puzzle, if you please?"

A boy's hand shot up. "I've got one! Using two coins from the current currency, make fifty-five pence, _but_ one coin cannot be a five pence coin."

There was muttering amongst my team, as the others discussed it. Most of them thought it impossible - after all, the only methods to make fifty-five pence involved making five pence, which meant either using one five pence piece, five one pence pieces, or two two pence pieces and a one penny piece. All but the first option went over the limit of two coins - and that was without making the remaining fifty pence - but the problem was, the rule stated you couldn't use a five pence piece.

Then I realized. It was obvious!

"Excuse me," I said, "could you repeat that?" I wanted to be sure that I was correct.

The boy obliged.

"As I thought. You said _'one coin cannot be a five pence coin'_, but you never said anything about the other coin. Therefore, to make fifty-five pence in accordance to the rules you gave, one coin must be a fifty pence coin, and the other a five pence coin."

Grudgingly, the boy confirmed that my answer was correct.

"Well done," Mrs Evans praised, impressed. "Do you have a puzzle for us, Shane?"

I thought about it. "Yeah, I do. You're trapped in a room with four walls, a ceiling and a floor, all of which are solid and join with no gaps. There are no doors, and no windows - no way of getting out. In the room, besides you, there is only a wooden table. How do you get out?"

The other team started talking amongst themselves, trying to work it out.

"That's a good one," Alicia commented. "It's a shame Kenzie is participating - she'll probably figure it out straight away. If she weren't participating, I don't think the other team would get it."

I looked over at Kenzie. She was no longer staring into space, and instead was studying me again, curiously.

"She's not talking to anyone," I pointed out. "I'd hardly call that participating."

"Usually she'd be reading and ignoring everyone else. Trust me - this is as close to participating as she gets."

"Well... Even so, if she gets the answer, then she really _is_ a genius. No one I know, including myself, has _ever_ been able to get the answer... unless, of course, they'd heard it before."

Alicia frowned. "Do _you_ know the answer?"

I nodded. "Of course."

The bell went, signifying the end of registration. Alicia left without a word, leaving me to find my way to my lesson by myself.

I checked my timetable. I had double chemistry first. I then looked at the map of the school I had been given to plan my route to the classroom, before making my way to it.

A short while later, I entered the chemistry classroom, to find that I was a little late. The teacher looked up from his laptop, from which he was taking the register.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" His expression gave nothing away, and his tone was polite.

"My name's Shane Morden, I'm new here. Sorry I'm late, I don't really know my way around the school yet."

He nodded. "That's quite all right, Shane." He looked around the classroom. "There's an empty seat next to Kenzie, you can sit there." He gestured to where he was referring to.

Kenzie, upon hearing her name, looked up from her exercise book. Upon seeing the reason for her name being called, she looked back down and continued writing.

I walked over to the desk and sat down. She made no indication that she had noticed my arrival.

The chemistry teacher, whose name I soon learned was Dr Jackson, started the lesson. I quickly tuned out - my previous chemistry teacher had been a few lessons ahead, so I had already studied this topic. I took the opportunity to see if I could figure anything out about the girl beside me.

I stole a sideways glance at her, and saw that she was paying me no attention - she was gazing straight at Dr Jackson, listening attentively to what he was saying. From that, I guessed that she either cared about her education, or she really liked chemistry.

After Dr Jackson had finished explaining, he handed out textbooks and told us to take notes on the topic. He then gave me a red exercise book.

I wrote my name on the front, then opened it up and wrote the title at the top of the page. Kenzie had already opened the textbook to the right page. I started making notes.

"I would ask your name," Kenzie said, not looking up from her notes, "but I already know it. I would introduce myself, but I'm sure Alicia already told you all about me and what a freak I am."

"She did say a few things about you," I replied, also not looking up from my notes. "But I prefer to make my own judgments about things. Especially people."

She looked up at me, slightly surprised. She then took in what I was doing.

"You've studied this topic before." It wasn't a question - it was a statement, as though she already knew it was a solid fact.

I frowned and looked up at her. "How did you know?"

She turned back to her work. "You clearly know what you're doing, yet weren't paying the slightest bit of attention when Dr Jackson was teaching the subject - instead you were watching me when you thought I wasn't looking, which, incidentally, is how I knew for definite that Alicia had told you about me, as you were clearly curious about me."

I sat in stunned silence for a while, continuing with my notes.

Finally, I spoke. "For the record, I _am_ curious about you, but not because of what Alicia said. And clearly all the bad stuff Alicia said about you isn't true. You're genuinely extremely smart and observant."

"I wouldn't be so quick to believe that, if I were you," she warned. "You haven't heard some of my crazier _'observations'_ yet."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I remained silent. She didn't say anything more, so we ended up sitting in silence for the much of the rest of the double period.

By the time the second period was almost over, the majority of the class were only pretending to work, and were in fact messing around - some of them joking and laughing around, some of them passing notes or playing paper wars, others daring each other to do things.

"All right," Dr Jackson called over the noise. "It's nearly break, you can pack up."

He turned his back, but as he did so, the sound of a text tone bleeped through the room.

He turned back to face the class. "All right, whose phone was that?"

No one answered. The class remained silent, as people continued packing up.

"You know the rules," Dr Jackson added. "If you have your phone on in school and it goes off, it gets confiscated for the week."

Still, nobody owned up. The class had finished packing up; everyone was standing behind their desks with their bags, waiting to be dismissed.

"Well, if nobody's going to own up, we're going to be here through break until someone _does_ own up." Dr Jackson folded his arms and leant against his desk, observing the class, unimpressed.

The members of the class started muttering. People started calling out, "Come on, own up! I want to get to break!" Someone else called, "Who has a Nokia phone? That was a Nokia text tone."

They were right - it was a Nokia text tone. I knew because I owned a Nokia myself - but I also knew that it wasn't my phone. Though I knew the tone to be Nokia, it wasn't the tone I used - not to mention, my phone was on silent, and switched off.

But still, nobody owned up.

Finally, I had had enough. "Dad's gonna kill me," I muttered, pulling out my phone. "It _may_ have been mine," I lied. "I thought I switched it off, but... apparently not. Sorry."

Dr Jackson walked over to me, unimpressed, but before he could say anything or take the phone, Kenzie intervened.

"Actually, sir, it wasn't Shane's phone. It was Jeremy's."

"What the... How the _hell_ did you work that out?" The outburst came from a boy who was clearly Jeremy.

Dr Jackson turned from me, to face him. "I'll take that as a confession. Phone please, Jeremy."

"Not until she says how she figured it out."

Kenzie rolled her eyes. "One: the sound came from your direction. Two: you've recently been telling everyone about your amazing new Nokia phone, and as Jeff so kindly pointed out, that was a Nokia text tone. Three: you're tense, sweating a little, all the telltale signs of anxiety and worry, because you've been caught red handed. Lastly, you've been using it under the desk all lesson."

Dr Jackson took the phone, gave Jeremy detention, and dismissed the class.

I had expected the class to be grateful to her - she had saved their break time. But instead, as soon as the teachers were out of earshot, Alicia turned on her.

"What the hell was that, _freak_?" She spat.

Kenzie didn't answer, ignoring her.

"Yeah, who do you think you are, Sherlock Holmes?" Jeremy added.

"Oh, wait, I'm forgetting that he was a fraud." Alicia feigned being embarrassed by their mistake, before her expression turned hard again. "Oh hang on, that _does_ work - because you are too," she added, vindictively. "A liar, a fake, and a _fraud_."

Finally, Kenzie snapped. "Sherlock Holmes was _not_ a fraud - and neither am I!"

"Admit it." Jeremy seemed to be enjoying his bit of revenge. "He was a fraud, you're a fraud, and one day, you'll meet the same end - dead, and everyone knowing you for what you truly were."

I couldn't stand by any longer. "Hey, that's not fair - leave her alone!"

But she had already left, pushing past me, down the corridor. I saw, as she passed, that her eyes were glistening with tears.

I turned after her. "Kenzie!"

She didn't hear me, and so I followed her, down the corridor and up to the crowded staircase. I followed her to the top, and into an empty corridor.

An _empty_ corridor.

Where did she go? I looked around and checked the classrooms, which were also empty. Finally I looked at the only door I hadn't tried. It wasn't a door to a classroom - it looked more like a door to a cupboard. But it was the only place she could have gone.

I opened it, to find a staircase. Sunlight streamed down it, and I realized that it must lead to the roof.

I climbed up and onto the roof. I couldn't see Kenzie, but I immediately saw her bag, at the top of the stairs. I placed mine by hers. I then looked around. Still nothing. Where was she?

I walked around the block I had come out of to see if she was on the other side. What I saw made my heart stop in fear.

She was standing with her back to me, on the roof, looking over the edge. Too close to the edge to be merely looking at the view.

Horror overcame me, as I realized that she planned to jump.

I didn't know what to do. I just knew that I had to stop her. If I didn't, this moment would haunt me for the rest of my life - hell, it would haunt me either way, seeing someone about to take their own life. But more than anything, I knew that I wanted to help her. The curiosity about her that I'd had since I'd first seen her in the form room, as I'd seen how others treated her and seen a glimpse of her personality, had somehow turned into a desire to get to know her, to be there for her when no one else seemed to be.

But I couldn't seem to will myself to do anything. I was frozen in shock, and I could only watch as she looked up to the sky.

She outstretched her arms, and took a deep breath. This was it, I realized. She was on the verge of doing it, of jumping.

The realization shook me out of the trance. I knew what I had to do - somehow, I had to stop her, I had to persuade her not to do it.

"Kenzie, wait, don't do it!" I cried, rushing forward to grab her, to pull her away from the edge, to _stop_ her.

But I couldn't help but wonder - was I already too late?

* * *

**Right, so I was rather nervous about posting this chapter - mainly because of the ending. I didn't want to give away part of the story, but I wasn't sure if I should have warned you that it was coming. So here's the deal - if you feel you should have been warned, ****_please_**** don't get mad and send me an angry message - send a polite review, stating your opinion. I'd also like to mention, in case anyone reading this story thinks I am encouraging suicide, I AM NOT. I am firmly of the belief that, no matter how bad life gets, it can always get better. I only included this scene in the story as a means for.. well, you'll see in the next chapter.**

**So, review! Tell me what you think! What do you think of Kenzie? What do you think of Shane? What do you think of their classmates, and the teachers? Just generally, ****_what do you think?!_**

**Till next time!**

**_MS._**


	4. Kenzie's Secret

**Disclaimer: I do not own the TV series, Sherlock. That rightfully belongs to the BBC. I only own the majority of the plot (the parts I don't own are the parts where the story crosses over with series 3), and the OCs, details of whom can be found on my profile.**

**So, here is chapter four! I apologize for the rather large paragraphs there are later on... I don't think there are ****_too_**** many...**

**So, thank you to ****_SummerElainee_**** and ****_Queen of Supernatural Lovers_**** for following the story. Also, thank you to the following person who reviewed:**

**_ThesShapeshifter100:_****If you really enjoy the series, then you can buy it on DVD... if not, then I don't know what to suggest, as I'm pretty sure that if someone had put full episodes on YouTube, the BBC would have taken them down. You should be okay with not having seen some of the series, though if you haven't watched ****_The Reichenbach _****(is that how you spell it?)****_ Fall_****, the third (and final) episode of season 2, you may find a few things a tad confusing... As for Kenzie being a slightly more human version of Sherlock, I'm glad you think that, as it was what I was trying to achieve :).**

**On with the show!**

* * *

Chapter 4 - Kenzie's secret

Shane's POV

Kenzie, upon hearing my voice, turned her head and held out a hand, in a gesture meaning _'stop'_.

"Don't come any closer! Or I'll do it. I'll jump."

I could hear in her voice that she meant it, so I halted in my steps.

"Kenzie," I tried to reason with her. "Please. You don't want to do this."

"You don't know that," she snapped.

"Yes I do," I replied. "Look, I know they're idiots and jerks, but that's all they are - that's no reason to do this. You need to think this through."

She laughed, bitterly. "Oh, I've been thinking it through - for _three years_. But there was one thing, one good thing in my life that was worth living for - my dad, the only person in the world who gave a damn about me and treated me like a person - but now he's gone. You think it's just my life at school that's bad? My mother is a drunk, an alcoholic, quite possibly a drug addict... She's abusive, she's neglectful, she absolutely _hates_ me, and she's always going on about how, if that _one other doctor_ had agreed that my birth would be traumatizing for her, she would have been allowed an abortion - and she would have had one. My life is generally one massive load of crap."

"Would your dad want you to do this?" I countered.

"Probably not," she admitted, "but you know what they say - _'like father, like son'_, or rather, in my case, _like father, like _daughter."

At first, I didn't understand what she meant. Then I realized. "Your dad commuted suicide?"

"Don't act all surprised about it," she spat, scornfully. "I expect you heard all about it on the news and in the papers. _'Suicide of fake genius'_ - that was the headline."

The headline sounded familiar, but I couldn't think why. Before I could say anything about it though, she continued.

"So, _Shane Morden_. You say that I don't want to do this - but now you know that I do. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't jump off the edge of this building and put an end to it all." She turned away from me and looked back over the edge.

"You said that the one thing in your life worth living for was your dad, right?" I prayed desperately that this would work. I couldn't let her do this. "So basically, as long as there's something good in your life, you can cope."

She didn't answer, so I kept talking.

"Listen, Kenzie, I know I can never replace what you've lost, I can't be a father to you - that would be ridiculous, we're the same age... But I _can_ be your friend. Step away from the edge - we'll talk this over, and you might find that life isn't as bad as it seems. I find talking to people and telling them how I feel always helps when I'm upset."

She turned back to me, an eyebrow raised. "I'd say that, right now, I'm a little more than _'upset'_."

"I know, but the same rules apply. Talking could still help."

She gazed at me, hesitantly, indecision in her eyes.

"Please, Kenzie," I begged. "Come away from the edge."

She looked back over the edge, still considering jumping.

"You don't want to die," I stated. "You just... You don't want things to continue the way they are. You want things to get better. I can help you - I can try to make things better. Please Kenzie... at least give it a try."

She turned back to me, and took a few steps towards me.

Then her knees buckled. I caught her, and felt that she was trembling. She was in shock - though I wasn't sure if that was due to what she had almost done, or due to the fact she hadn't done it.

"Sorry," she apologized, trying to steady herself but failing.

"Hey, it's okay."

I lead her to the block in the middle of the roof, and sat us down by it so that our backs were against it. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a bar of chocolate.

"Here," I handed it to her. "The sugar will help with the shock."

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

"We both know that's not true."

"But it's yours - I couldn't-"

"Kenzie, just eat the chocolate."

She gave me a stubborn look. "Only if you have half."

"But you're the one who needs it!" I objected.

"But it's _your_ chocolate."

I gave in. "Fine." I snapped the bar in half, opened it and handed half to Kenzie. "Satisfied?"

She gave a small, triumphant grin, and took it. "Yes."

We sat in silence for a few moments, while we ate the chocolate.

Suddenly, I remembered a conversation I'd had with my father one breakfast a few months ago...

* * *

_"_'Suicide of fake genius'_," Dad read aloud from the front page of the newspaper. "Looks like that Sherlock Holmes got what was coming to him."_

_"He committed suicide?" I asked, shocked._

_"Yep," he replied, popping the _'P'_._

_I frowned, partly because he _never_ popped _'P'_s, but mostly because of his cheerful mood and the nature of the news._

_"That's _horrible_," I said._

_"Well, it's all a matter of opinion," Dad mused as he read the article._

_I frowned. "Dad, someone's just _died_, taken their own life - in what way is that _not_ horrible?"_

_He closed the paper, stood, and put on his jacket. "Well, I must be off to work," he said, ignoring my question. "Have a good day at school."_

_"Dad-" I started, frowning, but he had already closed the door._

* * *

"_'Suicide of fake genius'_," I mused. "You said that was the headline when your father died. I remember that headline... Does that mean your father is..."

"Sherlock Holmes?" she finished.

I nodded.

"Yeah," she answered.

I considered the idea. From the pictures of him I had seen, I could honestly say that she did look a lot like him. She had his dark hair, his blue eyes, and his distinctive cheekbones. Not to mention, from what I'd seen and heard so far, she was as smart as he supposedly was.

"He wasn't a fraud," Kenzie told me. "He was set up by Moriarty. He taught me everything I know about observing and deducing - there was no way he could have been a fraud."

"Right."

She sighed. "You don't believe me, do you? You don't believe that he's my father - and you're not sure about him not being a fraud."

I shook my head. "That's not true."

She rolled her eyes. "You're showing all the signs of disbelief. I can tell."

I turned to her. "I'm finding it a little _hard_ to believe - and it's a lot to process. That doesn't mean that I _don't_ believe you - because I do. Something tells me that I can trust you, despite the fact that I've only just met you and we barely know each other."

She raised her eyebrows. "_'Barely know each other'_? On the contrary - you know my innermost secret, and I know a lot about you."

I frowned. "You know barely anything about me - until now, we've barely spoken!"

"I don't need to _speak_ to someone to learn about them - I simply need to observe," Kenzie told me. "For example, here is what I know about you from my observations: you've recently moved to the area from somewhere that is reasonably far away. You arrived _extremely_ recently, I'd say yesterday morning or early afternoon, and you applied for your place at this school as soon as you could, which was also yesterday. You care a lot about your education, and you are extremely smart. You are angry with your father - most likely because it was his decision to make the move, and you are angry about the timing of the move as it is during an important stage in your education. You are very interested in forensics - I'd say it is your ideal career choice - and you like a mystery - hence your lack of interest in other scientific jobs. You have the right mind for mysteries and puzzles too, and you are very good at science, so I'd say that forensics would be a very good career choice. How am I doing so far?"

I blinked in amazement. "All... All correct... But how could you see all that?"

"Well, your shirt and trousers told me that you've moved."

"How?"

"They're creased, in such a way that shows that they've been folded." She was speaking rapidly, barely pausing for breath, her thoughts and observations flowing from her mouth like water from the mouth of a river. "Shirts and trousers like those should be hung up in a wardrobe. Also, the way they are creased shows that they were packed tightly in a case or a box - someone our age doesn't usually take smart clothing on holiday, _especially_ not school uniform, and even if they had it would have been washed and ironed once they got home, getting rid of the creases in the process. Of course, if they hadn't _worn_ it, then it wouldn't have needed washing, but people our age would only take smart clothing on holiday if they knew they would need it. Therefore, they must have been folded and tightly packed with all of your clothing when you moved to the area. I know that you used to live a fair way away, as if you _hadn't_ then you wouldn't have needed to change schools - however I know that you couldn't have lived _too_ far away, as your accent isn't drastically different to that of the area. I know that you care about your education because I know that you applied here yesterday - if you had applied any earlier, even just the day _before_ yesterday, we would have been told during form time that we would be having a new student in our form. I also knew that you applied only yesterday because of your lack of blazer, as you said that you hadn't had the chance to buy one yet. Blazers your size are easy to come by, and there is a uniform stockist nearby, so you could only have not had a chance to buy one if you and your parents were extremely busy that day with unpacking, and you were starting school the very next day. The fact that you applied yesterday and started today shows that you were keen to start school, showing that you care about your education. The fact that you care about your education is how I realized you arrived here yesterday - you wanted to start school as soon as possible, therefore you would have looked into schools and applied as soon as possible after getting to the area - in other words, that day. I also realized, with that, that because you care so much about your education you would have looked into your choices of school yourself. However, you chose this school, which isn't a great school. Most people, given how much you care about your education, would find this odd. However, my guess is that, because you care about your education and you already know what career you want when you're older, you looked into the schools that offered the subjects you wanted to do, and the ones that used the same exam boards as you had started the subjects with. My guess is that this was the only school that fitted your terms and had a place. I realized that you must be smart, as you chose this school, despite how bad it is, yet you are not worried, because you know that you can make up for that. I also know that you're smart from the way you worked in that chemistry lesson, getting everything perfectly correct despite the fact you hadn't done it for at least a few days and you weren't listening to a word Dr Jackson was saying - which, incidentally, was also what told me you were good at science. I know that-" She cut herself off.

"Sorry," she murmured. "Getting carried away."

"No, it's ok - please, continue," I reassured. "I'm curious about how you figured it all out - like, how did you know about the fact I was angry at my father?"

"Again, it goes back to the fact that you care about your education. The move was made at a really inconvenient time - everyone has chosen their GCSE subjects, leaving you to take whatever's left, which limits your choices. You care about your education, so of course you'd be angry about the move, and you'd be angry at whoever made the decision. It can't have been your mother, as you clearly aren't angry with her, so it must have been your father. Therefore, I know that you're angry at your father."

I frowned, confused. "What makes you so sure that I'm not angry at Mum?"

"Well _that_ just confirmed it."

"What did?"

"A moment ago, you referred to your father as _'my father'_, yet just now you referred to your mother as _'mum'_. But I originally knew because of the faint traces of lipstick on your cheek - the kind only middle-aged women use - from when your mother kissed you goodbye this morning. If you were angry at her, you would taken much more care in wiping that off, you would have made absolute sure that it was _all_ gone - no traces left for me to observe. Therefore, as you didn't do that, you can't be angry at _her_."

I nodded in understanding. "So... how did you know I was interested in forensics?"

"I saw the book on forensics in your bag. A book that requires quite a high-level understanding of forensics for you to understand it, which was how I realized that you want to go into forensics when your older, and how I knew that you weren't really interested in other scientific jobs - if you _were_ interested in other jobs, you wouldn't have gone as far as you have in learning about forensics. And finally, I know that you like mystery, and that you have a good mind for it, from the puzzle you presented this morning, and from how quickly you solved the one that came before it."

There was a pause as I sat there in silence, having been rendered speechless.

Then, finally, I found the voice to speak. "Wow. That was... _amazing_."

Kenzie seemed surprised by my reaction. "Um... Thanks."

"You did that to prove that you really were Sherlock Holmes' daughter, didn't you?" I realized.

She shrugged. "Yeah... Sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize - _I_ should be apologizing, for doubting."

She shrugged. "Don't worry about it. There are lots of people out there who would claim to be related to someone famous, when they weren't - you were being very rational with your way of thinking. I'm lucky you even _considered_ the possibility that I was telling the truth." She pulled out her phone. "If you're still a bit unsure, I have a few photos on here."

I took it, though in all honesty I felt that I believed her. I scrolled through the photos, and found some of her, some of Sherlock Holmes, and a few of them together. One photo caught my eye.

I showed it to her. "He doesn't look too happy about wearing that hat, but I thought he liked it."

She laughed. "The deerstalker hat? It wasn't even his - originally, he put it on to hide his face from the press, which epically failed. But then the press made it into a big thing, so everyone thought it was his. It became quite the joke for those who knew him."

She fell silent, looking sadly up at the sky, remembering what had happened to her father, in the end.

In an attempt to distract her from that, and cheer her up, I changed the subject. "As a matter of curiosity, did you figure out the answer to the puzzle I told the class during form time?"

She nodded. "Yes."

I grinned. "And? What did you get, and how did you get it?"

"Well," she started, " given that you'd made it clear that, physically, there was no way to get out of the room, I realized that the answer must lie in how you word it - and, to me, the most likely option seemed to be that the answer would involve play-on-words. So, I thought about the possibilities, and realized that if there were to be some way of getting the words _'whole'_ and _'hole'_ into the answer, the hole would be the way of escape. I also realized that the table must play an important part in the answer, and I thought backwards from there. The answer I got was this: Rub your hands together until they are _sore_. Use the _saw_ to cut the table in half. Two halves make a _whole_. Jump through the _hole_." She paused. "Did I get it right?"

I nodded, grinning. "Yes! No one I know has _ever_ been able to work that out before!"

She raised her eyebrows. "Really? I found it quite simple."

I laughed. "You would - you're a genius!"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I wouldn't say I'm a _genius_..."

"Oh, come on Kenzie! You can't _seriously_ believe that you are not a genius, after all the things you've just said about me and the puzzle."

She shrugged. "Those were just simple observations. There's nothing _'genius'_ about it."

I opened my mouth to protest, before realizing that simply arguing wasn't going to convince her. "All right then... Alicia mentioned that you could tell that her friend Ella's boyfriend had been cheating from his shirt. Who else could do that?"

"My father, for one, if he were still alive. His brother, Mycroft, could as well."

"So being a genius runs in the family," I concluded.

"I'm not so sure - their parents are completely normal, from what I've heard."

"So? Doesn't change the fact that you're-"

"Not a genius," she finished.

"If you're not a genius, then how _were_ you able to tell Ella's boyfriend was cheating on her from his shirt?"

"It was crumpled in places and ways that only come from making out in a very... _intense_ way," she replied. "At first I assumed that he had seen Ella earlier that day, but then I overheard him saying to Ella that it had been too long since he'd seen her, and she replied that it had only been since yesterday. They were alone, so they had no need to hide any aspects of their relationship, so I realized that he must have been with another girl that morning."

It made sense. But there was one other thing about the situation that _didn't_ make sense...

"Why did you tell Ella?" I asked.

Kenzie shrugged. "If someone were cheating on me, I'd rather know than be kept in the dark."

"But, from what I've seen, Alicia hates you and treats you like a freak even if you're trying to be nice or help her. Since they're best friends, I can't imagine Ella is any different. So why bother trying to help them?"

She sighed. "Truth be told, a part of me hoped that if I helped her, she wouldn't treat me as badly. I soon gave up on that idea - as you can probably tell from the fact that, even though I knew from the start that it was Jeremy's phone that went off, I didn't say anything."

"But you _did_ say something," I objected, confused.

"Only when you almost had your phone confiscated - I did it to help _you_, not the class."

"Why? Why help me?"

"I'm not really sure... my emotions have been all over the place recently, I haven't been able to recognize what any of them are. I guess, deep down, I could tell you were a good person, and I think that I knew, deep down, that my suicidal thoughts were beginning to take over. I think I hoped that if I helped you, you help me."

"Have I?" I asked, hesitantly. "Have I helped you?"

She turned her head to look at me. "Shane, you've done much more than that - you've saved me. You saved my life, and showed me that things can get better. I can never thank you enough for what you did."

I shook my head. "You don't need to thank me. Anyone would have tried to stop you, had they been there."

"But not just anyone could have succeeded," Kenzie pointed out, "and in case you hadn't noticed, no one else was there - because no one else saw that I was upset and followed me. You were there for me in a way nobody else was."

I couldn't argue with that, so I remained silent.

After a moment, she spoke again. "In chemistry, you said that it wasn't the things Alicia said that made you curious about me. If I may ask... what _did_ make you curious?"

"Truthfully? It was the way you looked at me when I first entered the room during form time," I replied.

"You were the new boy," Kenzie pointed out. "_Everyone_ was looking at you."

"Exactly - all of them trying to figure me out," I explained. "But you - you looked at me, and I knew that you were truly _seeing_ me, that you could see all the things about me they couldn't."

She gave a small chuckle. "Most people would be creeped out by that."

I shrugged. "Maybe. But I'm not most people."

The bell rang, signaling the end of break. We got up and retrieved our bags.

"What've you got?" Kenzie asked as I got out my timetable.

"Maths," I replied.

"Me too." She looked over my shoulder. "Oh. They've put you in the middle set for everything - probably because you're new. That means we're not sharing as many classes as I'd hoped - just the sciences, PE and history. Then again, once they realize how smart you are you'll probably get put in all the top sets, with me, so we'll have most of our lessons together." She started to lead the way back down the stairs. "All the maths rooms are on the same corridor, so you might as well follow me - I'll point you to the right classroom."

I followed her down. "Thanks."

"No problem," she grinned. "After all - it's what friends do."

* * *

**So, it's official: Shane and Kenzie are now friends.**

**So, how do you think this friendship is going to turn out? How do you think it will start out, and how do you think it will develop? ****_Tell me!_**** Review!**

**I forgot to mention on the last chapter that the puzzles weren't created by me. I was told the coins puzzle by my dad's girlfriend, and I was told the escape-the-room one by a friend - so thank you to those people, even though you won't be reading this ;).**

**Also, in case anyone was confused, the thing that Kenzie's mother says about how if one other doctor had agreed that having the child would be traumatizing was a reference to UK law on abortion (which I had to learn in GCSE RE: Christianity Ethics :( ). For those of you who don't know, UK law on abortion states that two doctors must agree to the abortion (or one in an emergency - which wasn't the case for Kenzie's mother), and that these doctors must agree that one or more of certain reasons exist. Up to 24 weeks, abortion is allowed if continuing with the pregnancy would pose a risk to the physical or mental health of the woman (in the case of Kenzie's mother, ****_one_**** doctor thought that the pregnancy would pose a risk to Kenzie's mother's mental health), if existing children would suffer (which, as Kenzie was her mother's first (and only) pregnancy/child, isn't applicable to the situation), or if the child would be seriously disabled (which wouldn't count either, as Kenzie is not). After 24 weeks, it's allowed for basically the same reasons, but in more extreme cases - continuing with the pregnancy would pose a ****_grave_**** risk to woman's health (which ****_no_**** doctors agreed to in the case of Kenzie's mother), existing kids would ****_seriously_**** (Kenzie=first born, therefore not valid), or the child would be ****_severely_**** disabled (again, not valid).**

**Anyway, I'm not entirely sure when the next update will be, as I am going to stay with my grandparents next Friday or Saturday for a week or so, and will probably not be taking my laptop (therefore I won't be able to update). So basically, what I'm trying to say, is that when I next update depends on how fast I can write the next chapter - if I write fast, it may be up within the next week... but I doubt that'll happen. So...**

**Until next time, whenever that is.**

**_MS._**


	5. Kenzie's Story

**Disclaimer: I do not own the TV series, Sherlock. That rightfully belongs to the BBC. I only own the majority of the plot (the parts I don't own are the parts where the story crosses over with series 3), and the OCs, details of whom can be found on my profile.**

**Hello!**

**Ok, so you probably have already realized that I didn't update last week, as I hadn't finished the chapter. In fact, I found this chapter really difficult to write... I almost didn't finish it in time for today.**

**Well, I have some bad news for you - I will not be updating over the next couple of weeks, as I am in the South of France visiting my other grandparents. I'll hopefully update when I get back (it'll be a pleasant distraction from worrying about my GCSE results), and after that... I'm not really sure what's happening. I'll let you know next time.**

**But there is also good news (I think) - I am (at the moment) planning on doing the next chapter in Kenzie's POV, so you'll finally get to see what goes on inside her head! You'll also get to see what Kate is like (want to know who Kate is? You'll find out in this chapter), which is good as Shane won't be meeting Kate for a while yet so you won't find out through him.**

**Also, I think I may have forgotten to mention this, but... The mysterious girl in the first chapter was Kenzie. Just thought I'd clarify that, in case anyone was confused.**

**Thank you to the following person who reviewed:**

**_TheShapeshifter100:_****That's good :). As for the DVDs... It's entirely up to you. I'm sure Sherlock will be replaying on TV at some point (that's how I watched series 1 and 2 last year), so if you keep an eye out you can watch it that way - you could also try favouriting Sherlock on BBC iPlayer and keeping an eye on your favourites page to see if any episodes come up (also, partly, how I watched series 1 and 2 (though you may not be able to do that now... it's been a while since I last used iPlayer, and I think the system may have changed a bit since)). Oh, there's also ****_borrowing_**** the DVDs, either from a friend or from the library... Just a few suggestions if you want to watch it but don't want to buy the DVDs... ;)**

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Chapter 5 - Kenzie's Story

Shane's POV

Even though I had, at least for now, managed to talk Kenzie out of suicide, I was still pretty worried, and pretty freaked. Worried because a part of me was scared that, during our time apart, she would return to the roof, and jump. Freaked because... Well, who _wouldn't_ be freaked after witnessing someone on the brink of suicide?

So the fact that I had maths came as a relief to me - because, if anything could calm me down, it was a good, challenging, logical bit of maths. To me, maths was essentially puzzle solving - and so, it was both enjoyable and relaxing.

That was provided it was actually a challenge. Unfortunately for me, I had been placed in the middle set, due to being the new kid, and so the work was a lot easier than I was used to - in all my high school life, I had always been in the top sets for everything.

Once the teacher had explained everything - and repeated it a few times for the students at the back of the class who were dozing - he handed us sheets to work through.

I finished the whole sheet, including the extension tasks, within ten minutes. I raised my hand, and the teacher came over.

"Shane, is it?" he asked as I lowered my hand.

"Yes sir."

"Having trouble with the work?"

"Actually sir, I've finished the work," I informed him, showing him my book so that he could mark it.

He fished a red pen from his pocket and looked through the work, ticking as he went.

He turned the book back to me. "All correct - well done. I'll see if I can find you some more work."

He left, then soon returned with more worksheets for me to work through - which I did. By the time the bell went, signaling the end of the third period, I had completed two more sheets.

He dismissed us, and I packed up as fast as I could, exiting the classroom and making a beeline for the door I had seen Kenzie go through at the beginning of the period.

She spotted me instantly as she exited the room, behind several other students.

"What've you got?" she asked.

"IT," I replied. "Though I've no idea if it's core IT or GCSE IT."

"It'll be core," she replied. "If it were GCSE, I'd have some kind of option - which I don't."

"What _do_ you have?" I asked.

She pulled a face. "RE."

I gave her a sympathetic look. "Unlucky."

"Better than yesterday - I had RE _twice_."

I winced. "Ouch. Double RE - sounds like torture."

"Could have been worse - it's not quite a double, as I had it periods 3 and 5."

I shrugged. "True. So, where would I find the IT suite?"

She pointed towards one end of the corridor. "Down there and up those stairs."

"Right," I nodded, making my way in the direction she was pointing.

She followed, so I guessed RE must also be upstairs. But I was wrong - as I turned to go up the stairs, she turned to go down.

"See you at lunch," I told her.

She nodded in reply, and we parted ways. I followed her instructions, and found myself on the corridor that I had passed through and discovered empty when I was searching for Kenzie earlier.

Now, however, it was far from empty - there were people fighting to get to their classrooms, and people lined up outside their classrooms. Most of the people here looked younger than me, but lined up outside one classroom was a group of students my age - I recognized Alicia and Jeremy among them.

I made my way to the back of the line, after checking that I had got the right classroom, and waited with the class for the teacher to arrive.

The lesson was pretty uneventful - I was put next to Jeremy, who was still rather upset over the incident with the phone and so ignored me. That was fine by me - I had a feeling the alternative would have been him grumbling about the temporary loss of his phone, which would probably have involved him saying insulting things about Kenzie, which I was most definitely _not_ in the mood to hear.

I finished the work reasonably quickly, and while I raised my hand and waited for the teacher to come over to me, I studied the map of the school.

More specifically, I searched it for the RE corridor, and for the quickest way of getting to it. I was still worried that Kenzie might change her mind and return to the roof, and so I wanted to try to get to her as soon after the lesson ended as possible.

Fate, as it seemed, was on my side - the teacher let us out just as the bell signaling the end of the lesson went off, and so the corridors and stairs were almost empty as I rushed through them.

I reached the RE corridor just as Kenzie emerged from a classroom. When she saw me, she raised her eyebrows.

"What's the hurry?" she asked.

I blinked. "What?"

"You all-but ran from IT to get here - why?" she clarified.

I attempted to shrug it off. "Oh, it's nothing."

She saw right through me. "You're worried I'll change my mind and go back up to the roof, aren't you?"

"Well... yeah," I confessed.

She shook her head. "I assure you, there's no need to worry - as you said yourself, I-" She looked around, seeing there were people around. She led me away, back in the direction I had come. "I don't want to die," she finished, softly. "But I didn't want things to continue the way they were - and that's what drove me to it. But now things are different - I have you."

I nodded in understanding. "I know. But... I still worry."

She shrugged. "It's to be expected, after what you saw. But really - I'm okay."

I had barely noticed that she was leading me to a destination until we had reached it. We entered through a door behind several other students, into a large hall with lots of tables, packed with students.

"I need to go to the canteen to get lunch," Kenzie informed me. "I don't have any food."

"Same here," I said.

"Well in that case..." She steered me toward the other end of the hall, where there was a long line of students. "It'll be nice to have some company in the queue - it'll be a long wait. Oh, and I should warn you - the food is expensive, and the meals are horrible. I would go for things like the baguettes, wraps and cakes, if I were you."

"I'll bear that in mind," I told her, as we fell in line behind the students at the back of the queue.

"Also," she lowered her voice to a murmur as some students joined the queue behind us. "Keep a careful watch for anyone trying to get ahead of us in the queue - they can be very sneaky." She, seemingly unconsciously, shifted herself slightly to block the path of a student who'd been edging to the side of her.

After that, as we moved slowly towards the entrance of the canteen, we talked about rather mundane things - small talk. I learnt that she loved reading and music. She wasn't specific about what kinds of books she read or what kind of music she listened to - she enjoyed a wide range, and didn't really have favorites, though, as she had said, _'if I_ had _to choose a favorite song, it would be_ 'Carry On Wayward Son' _by_ Kansas._'_ When I told her I didn't know the song, she told me she'd play it to me at some point. This reassured me a little, as it suggested that she was planning on sticking around for a while - therefore not planning to... to pay a visit to the first high building she could get to once she got rid of me.

I also learnt that she was rather fond of musicals. She told me that she had been taken to see a couple by a _'detective friend'_ - I instantly realized that she was referring to her father, Sherlock Holmes in a way that only I would know who she was talking about. She laughed as she told me about how he absolutely _hated_ musicals, yet insisted on accompanying her on the few occasions that she went to one.

I smiled at that - partly because it was a little amusing, but mostly because it was nice to see her laugh, seemingly truly happy, if only just for that one moment.

When we finally reached the canteen, I discovered that Kenzie had been right about it - the food _was_ expensive, and one glance at the meals they had to offer made me feel slightly ill at the prospect of eating one.

I turned, instead, to follow Kenzie to a group of heated trays containing a selection of heated baguettes, wraps and burger buns, all of which were wrapped in colored greaseproof paper.

"What would you suggest?" I asked Kenzie.

"I personally quite like the barbecue chicken wraps," she informed me, picking up one of said wrap. "Though the amount of sauce they have in them can vary from _'barely anything'_ to _'it's so full of barbecue sauce it's exploding everywhere!'_"

I picked one up, figuring I might as well try one. I also picked up a chocolate brownie (also one of Kenzie's suggestions) and a can of _Appletiser_.

I paid for my lunch, and waited as Kenzie approached the lady at the till.

But instead of paying, Kenzie said to the lady, "number ninety-seven."

To my surprise, the lady nodded and let her leave the canteen without giving any money.

"How come you didn't have to pay?" I asked, as we stood by the exit and struggled to get our food into a comfortable way of holding it.

"It's something the school does," Kenzie explained. "If you live in a household that has very low income, they allow you to get a certain amount of free food from the canteen each day - as long as it adds up to no more than five pounds, you don't have to pay. Each person who can do this gets their own number, so that the canteen staff can keep track of how much you've had."

"And you're one of those people?" I guessed.

She nodded. "Most the time, Kate is unemployed - and when she isn't, she's working for an extremely low wage."

"Kate?" I asked, confused.

"My mother," Kenzie clarified, bitterly.

A part of me wanted to ask why she called her _'Kate'_ instead of something like _'Mum'_ or _'Mother'_. That same part of me wanted to ask about the bitterness in Kenzie's voice. But somehow, I knew that now wasn't a good time to ask - too many personal questions when we'd only met that day wasn't a good idea.

"Let's go outside," she said, changing the subject and steering me towards the exit. "There'll be places where we can talk in private out there - and I'm sure you've got a lot of questions that you didn't get a chance to ask at break."

I nodded, and we made our way outside and to a tree with no one sitting near it. I sat down on the grass beneath its branches and leaned against the trunk. Kenzie took off her blazer, laid it on the ground, and then sat on it, cross-legged.

It was then that I noticed that, unlike most the other girls at the school, she wore trousers. I mentioned this to her, asking why that was. She shrugged.

"I don't really know why most the other girls wear skirts. All I know is that I wear trousers because they're more practical - you get more freedom of movement, and you don't have to worry about showing anything when you bend down or anything like that."

We sat there for a few minutes, eating, in silence. Then, after a while, Kenzie broke the silence.

"So. What do you want to know?"

I thought about it for a moment. "How come nobody knows that you're Sherlock Holmes' daughter?"

"Kate was embarrassed," Kenzie explained. "Originally, Dad only got in a relationship with her for the benefit of a case he was working on. But the thing is, as he spent time with her, he realized that he had actually fallen in love with her - and _that's_ when he took their relationship to the next stage, so to speak. Previously he'd held back, knowing that it was unfair on her to take advantage of her in _that_ way, but once he realized that he loved her... Things were different. But the problem was... Kate found out the real reason why he asked her out in the first place. She broke it off, refusing to believe him when he said that he loved her - and that's when she started trying to destroy all trace of her relationship with him, because she felt embarrassed because she was a fool to have fallen for his _'trick'_. She cut all ties to him, and moved away. She was respectable enough, and tried to make a new life. But then she found out that she was pregnant. And she knew that there was only one possibility as to who the father was."

"Sherlock Holmes," I realized. "She was pregnant with you."

Kenzie nodded. "After that, as far as Dad could tell from the research he'd done to find it out - he was the one who told me all this, but he'd had to figure it out the hard way as Kate wouldn't speak to anyone about it - but, as I was saying, after she found out she was pregnant, Kate tried to get an abortion, to erase the last piece of evidence of her relationship with Sherlock Holmes and get rid of the child she didn't want. I don't know what your knowledge of UK law on abortion is like, but in short, you need two doctors to agree to it in order for it to happen. Only one doctor agreed, no matter how hard she tried to persuade other doctors that the child's birth would be traumatizing for her. Eventually, the knowledge that she couldn't get an abortion set in, and she became terribly depressed - so depressed that, from that point on till the day she gave birth, she was taken into hospital. I think the fact that alcohol and cigarettes aren't allowed in hospital was the only reason she didn't turn to smoking and drinking _then_."

She lapsed into silent, lost in bitter memories.

"What-" I started to say, before losing my nerve. I swallowed, and then tried again. "What happened after you were born?"

"Eventually, she was let out of hospital. Incidentally, Dad had been looking for her, but he hadn't found her because when he investigated her flat, there wasn't any evidence to suggest she was living there - as she was in hospital at the time - and he didn't think to check hospital records, as he couldn't imagine a reason for her being there. He eventually gave up looking, as he believed that she must have found a way to cover her tracks and hide herself from him. So he had no idea that he had a child, and she was left to raise me, a daughter she hated and didn't want, on her own. She started drinking and smoking. It wasn't until I was five and a half that Dad discovered he had a child, and found us."

"How _did_ he find out?" I asked.

"He was working a case. He never told me the full details of the case, only that he needed to access the records of an abortion clinic - which was, by an amazing coincidence, the same clinic Kate had gone to to try to get rid of me. So, of course, as he was looking through the records, he saw the name _'Kate Riverston'_ several times, as they had kept a record of her several declined requests for an abortion. He made the calculations, and realized that there was a great possibility that the child was his. So he looked at hospital records for all births, and soon found that Kate Riverston had given birth to a baby girl, who she called Kenzie. He also found the address, and so he came and knocked on the door."

"I can't imagine your mum was too pleased to see him," I said.

"_'Kate'_," she corrected, firmly. "She has never been any kind of decent maternal figure to me, so I refuse to refer to her or acknowledge her as such unless it is absolutely necessary."

"Right. Sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't be - you weren't to know." She paused. "Where was I... ah yes. You are quite right - she wasn't pleased to see him. At the time, she was sober - back then, she was only drunk _half_ the time - so she wasn't as angry as she _could_ have been, but there was still a lot of shouting involved. She wouldn't even let him in the door. I stayed in my room for most of it, as I was scared, but I did manage to grasp one thing about the conversation - it had something to do with my father. I didn't know who he was, as Kate had never told me, but I always dreamt of finding him, because I thought that, if I could find him, I could leave Kate and live with him instead, and we'd be like a proper family of two. It was because of that that I worked up the nerve to sneak into the hallway and see the strange man, who, I realized, knew something about my father. He spotted me, and for a moment everything seemed to stop. He paused mid-sentence, his expression softened and he just looked at me. And I felt... kind of how you said you felt when I looked at you in the form room this morning - I felt as though he really _saw_ me, as though he knew me, as though he knew everything about me. And he seemed... I don't know how to describe it. His expression showed very little emotion - as it often did - but I could _feel_ it all there, I somehow _knew_ that on the inside, his emotions and feelings were strong and were battling each other and that they scared him, just a little. And then I took in what he looked like - and I realized that he looked like me. He had the same hair, the same eyes, and our facial features - particularly the cheekbones - were also very similar. In that moment, I was certain that the man before me was my father."

"What happened after that?" I asked her. "What... What did he do?"

"He spoke. Two words - _'Hello. Kenzie.'_ I wanted to ask him if he was my father, but before I could, Kate yelled at him, telling him to stay away, and shut the door in his face. She went straight for the alcohol, so I shut myself in my room, as I knew that she'd soon be very drunk, and I didn't want to stick around for that. As I sat there, alone in my room, it occurred to me that, since our flat was on the ground floor, I could climb out the window and go after him. So I did exactly that. I went after him, and asked him if he was my father. He said yes, and we stopped in a nearby café to talk. He showed me the records he found as proof that I was his daughter, and then went on to explain an agreement he and Kate had come to. The world wouldn't learn that I was his daughter - which was good for Kate, as she didn't want the embarrassment, as I mentioned earlier, and it was good for Dad as he wanted to keep me safe, and he knew that if the world were to learn that Sherlock Holmes had a five-year- old daughter, some of his enemies would use that to their advantage, use me to get to him, possibly even hurt me. He believed that, at least until I was old enough and strong enough to look after myself, it was better that I was kept secret, for my own safety. He also explained to me the circumstances of my birth, and that my mother hated him and wouldn't want to see him. He then told me that that wouldn't stop him from seeing _me_, if that was what I wanted. I told him yes, and he gave me a mobile phone with his number on. I used that to communicate with him, so that we could arrange when and where to meet. I never told him about the way Kate treated me - I knew that if he did, he'd take me to live with him, and with everything he'd already done for me to try to keep me safe, I didn't want to ask more of him. We went our separate ways, and arranged to meet again. So... I guess that's it. That's how I came to be, how I met my father, and why no one knows I'm his daughter. Is there... Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

I shook my head. "I think you've about covered it."

After that, we made small talk until the bell went signaling the end of lunch. My mind was still reeling throughout the last two lessons of that day, due to all that I'd just learnt. I couldn't wait for the end of the school day, so that I could give my mind a rest...

But, of course, when you want time to pass quickly it passes slowly. Unfortunately for me, today was no exception.

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**So, that's the end of Shane's first school day - though the day itself is far from over! The next chapter, as I said, will be in Kenzie's POV and (assuming things go to plan) she will be meeting Shane's parents.**

**What do you think so far? I realise this story is probably starting out quite slowly - but my plan is that things will pick up a little once I've given Shane and Kenzie a chance to get to know each other properly. But, whatever your opinion of the story is, please review and ****_tell me_****. I always want to hear feedback from my readers, and getting reviews makes me very happy :).**

**Also, if you check out my tumblr account, I (though things are starting out a bit slowly) am posting trivia about my various fanfictions, and there will be so much more in the future (previews for new stories, ideas for new stories) and abyone who asks me questions on there will have their question answered. But, of more interest to you, is that, once I've finished creating them, I will be posting a floor plan of St Octavians, and the full Year 10 timetable for Kenzie and Shane.**

**So, till next time...**

**_MS._**


	6. The Video Blog

**Hello! Did you miss me?**

**Major sense of Déjà Vu, because that's the second time I've written those words... I had this author's note typed, and all the chapter edited, but then spell-check went wrong, I did something stupid, and I lost it all. Thankfully I had the rough, unedited copy of the chapter still, so I didn't lose ****_that_****, but it still meant I had to repeat all that work...**

**So, my chronological list of excuses for taking ages to update is as follows: 1) holiday 2) stress due to exam results 3) holiday 4) start of school year and moving up to the sixth form 5) massive workload, and 1-5) writer's block.**

**Right... so... ****_Guess who's going to ComicCon in 41 day's time and cosplaying as Sherlock! I AM SO EXCITED!_**** At first I didn't think I could go, then realized I could, so got all excited and bought the coat and scarf, and so me and a large group of friends are all going and it is going to be ****_awesooooooooooooooooome!_**

**So, just so you guys know, I am now a little nervous about this story, as one of my friends now knows that I have a FanFiction account, and it's only a matter of time till she finds it, and I'm nervous as this is a secret I've never told anyone. I'm completely okay with her finding this account, I'm just nervous because I've always been too scared to tell anyone about my love of writing because I have no idea if I'm any good at writing, and I'm afraid that if someone I know reads my work, they might not think it's any good and think badly of me. So, *insert name of friend here - I hope you'll know who you are*, should you ever read this, I guess you now know why my hobby of writing has been my most closely-guarded secret for the past 4-5 years, and why this account, for the past 2 years, has also been a part of that secret.**

**Thank you to the following person who reviewed:**

**_TheShapeshifter100:_****I wish that the evil idea of RE twice in one day was mine, but I'm afraid I have o give the credit of that to whoever wrote my year 11 school timetable. I based Shane/Kenzie's timetable off that. As for the songs, I agree - they really do illustrate Jack/Tara's relationship in FoF, and I'll be sure to mention those songs in the author's note of the final chapter, when I finally get round to finishing and posting it. And, while I think about it, ****_'Angel with a Shotgun'_**** also reminds me of one of the other FoF characters, but in a future story (in which he will be the main character ;) ). Thank you so much for your review, and for the songs!**

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Chapter 6 - The Video Blog

Kenzie's POV

Core IT seemed to drag on forever, and so when the bell rang I was the first out of the classroom.

Shane had just had English, so he wasn't here - which was kind of a surprise, given that he'd rushed out of every lesson to meet me just as I came out of mine. But, then again, the teacher might have let his class out late.

Truth be told, I was glad he'd come to meet me - between him and lessons, I hadn't had a proper chance to think. Right now, I didn't _want_ to think. Though Shane's sudden involvement in my life had greatly improved it, that by no counts meant that I was happy. But as long as I couldn't think on it, I knew I could ignore it - I had been doing so for nearly sixteen years, after all.

Then there was the issue of what I had almost done. The fact that I'd nearly done it... it scared me. It scared me like hell. But, much as my misery was concerned, as long as I didn't think on it, I could ignore it.

But now, Shane wasn't here, and I wasn't in a lesson. Which meant that I was alone in my mind, with nothing to distract from the thoughts I didn't want to think.

My eyes drifted to the end of the corridor, where the stairs to the roof were. I shuddered, remembering break time and my ascent.

I turned away and followed my classmates to the other end of the corridor, to the main staircase. I went down to the first floor and waited outside the English classrooms for Shane to emerge from one of them.

He did so a few moments later, looking worried. As soon as his eyes rested on me, he relaxed.

Just the sight of him chased my dark thoughts away. I realized how dependant on him I had become - and that I was going to have to learn to keep the thoughts at bay without him, because he _couldn't_ be with me all the time. And I realized one other thing:

Tonight - when I would lie awake, restless and unable to sleep - was going to be hell.

* * *

Shane and I made small talk as we walked out the front gate. Through some form of unspoken agreement, we turned and walked in a direction - which I assumed would take us to Shane's home.

We reached the door, and I turned to say goodbye.

But then, Shane opened it and held it open for me, welcomingly. "Ladies first," he said.

I blinked. "You want me to... Come in?"

"Well, I'm not going to force you, but if you _want_ to come in then yes, I would like you to. It means we can hang out."

"But, your parents, mightn't they-"

"They'll be fine with it," he reassured. "They'll be happy I made a friend. Truth be told... I've never really had friends, until today."

"Then it seems we're _both_ new to this," I said with a small smile.

"We can figure it out."

I nodded in agreement. "That we can."

We entered the flat, which, in comparison to the flat I lived in, was like a palace. Neat, clean, tidy... Nothing cluttering the floor, it was... Nice. Home-like.

I stopped myself from saying as much, however. I had a feeling that letting Shane know _exactly_ how bad things were for me at home so soon in our friendship wasn't the best of ideas.

A woman's voice called from one of the rooms. "Is that you, Shane?"

Shane led me into a room that was clearly the living room. There was a sofa, with its back to the door, on which a woman was sitting.

"Yeah," Shane replied. "And I've brought a friend.

"Oh, what's his name?" She could barely hide her excitement as she turned to look. She gave me an apologetic look as she realized her mistake.

"_Her_ name," Shane corrected, "is Kenzie."

I smiled, and approached the woman. My mind, as it usually did when I met a new person, was reeling with observations.

First I took in the basic aspects of her physical appearance - she had bright blue eyes, mousy hair, she was wearing a brightly colored dress, and she looked kindly and motherly. I then noticed the finer details - the ones that would tell me about her as a person...

_Excited - happy that he's made a friend. Finding it hard to contain said excitement - must be a generally cheerful person._ 'Is that you, Shane?' _- Tone of voice happy, glad he's home, proud of him as a person. Lipstick - same shade as traces on Shane's cheek this morning. Therefore..._

"You must be Shane's mother - Mrs Morden." I held out my hand for her to shake.

She shook it. "Please, just call me Lissa. It's a pleasure to meet you, Kenzie."

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Lissa."

She smiled welcomingly. "Is there anything I can get you? Tea? Cake?"

"Just a glass of water, thank you," I smiled back.

"Okay then... Shane?"

"Same here," he replied.

"Right." She looked from Shane, to me, and then back to Shane. "Well, I'll let you two go and do... whatever young people _do_ these days.

She left the room and entered the kitchen. Shane led me to another door, which he opened to reveal his room. He entered, and I followed him in.

I looked around. It was also rather tidy - though that was probably because he'd only moved in and organized everything yesterday. The bookcase was very full, and was also very organized. The bottom two shelves were all non-fiction, and featured many books on science and forensics. The other shelves contained fiction books of a variety of genres - though I noticed that there was more mystery, crime and detective books than there were of other genres. The spines of most of them were cracked, showing that they had been read a lot, but besides that they were in good condition, showing that Shane cared about and looked after them.

Shane took off his backpack and leant it against the wall. He gestured to it, inviting me to do the same. I did so.

Besides the bookcase, there was a small chest of drawers, a wardrobe, a cabinet (on which sat a small amount of scientific equipment), a bed and a desk. On the desk was a mug full of stationery, a laptop, and a webcam.

I mentioned the webcam to Shane.

He blushed a little. "I got it for my birthday, and I was planning on making a video blog about my new life in London..."

This piqued my curiosity. "Really?"

"Yeah..." He looked a little unsure as to what to say. "I filmed the first video last night, but I never got round to posting it. Just as well, really - I'm not sure what I'd say about today, what I'd talk about and what I'd leave out."

"I could help," I suggested.

He looked surprised. "Really? I mean, I'd have thought you wouldn't want any attention drawn to yourself on the internet, what with you being... you know who's secret daughter." He paused for a second, and then unsuccessfully tried to suppress a smile. "Sorry... Calling him 'you know who' makes me think of Voldemort from Harry Potter..."

I laughed. "It's okay, I know what you meant. And as for that... Who's going to figure out that I'm his daughter from a video blog?"

He shrugged. "Okay then..."

He turned to the laptop and switched it on. He looked around for a second chair for me to sit on, before realizing that there wasn't one.

"One second," he said, as he left the room to find one.

When he came back, he had a stool with two glasses of water balanced on top. I instantly grabbed the water so that there was no risk of it falling. Shane set the stool down by the chair.

I sat on the stool and he sat on the chair. I handed him a glass of water, which he accepted with a smile of thanks. I sipped mine as his computer loaded, politely turning away as he typed in his password.

Once he had logged in, he went into his documents. He clicked on a folder labeled _'Video Blog'_, and then went to click on a file labeled _'Monday 8th October 2012'_. He didn't click on it though - he hesitated, cursor hovering over the file.

"Did you want to see the first video before I post it?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Sure."

He double clicked on the file, and a program opened, filling the screen with the video.

_"Hi, my name's Shane Morden. I'm fifteen years old, and today I moved to London - something I'm not all that happy about._

_"It's not that I don't like London - in fact, I've wanted to see the town for almost as long as I can remember - and it's not that I liked it where I used to live - Amberley is an incredibly boring place with not much to do, no offence to anyone who lives there. No, the reason I'm unhappy about the move is because of the timing of it._

_"You see, I recently started year ten at school, meaning I have just started my GCSEs. I'm angry at my dad for making the decision to move, partly because this is an important stage in my education, and moving now could have affected what GCSE subjects I did and therefore my entire future and career, and partly because this decision is extremely hypocritical of him. He's always saying how parents should put their children first, yet here he is, moving us to London to better his career, putting mine at risk in the process."_

It amazed me how natural, how casual he was, whilst talking to a camera. He acted as though he was just talking to another person - not at all like he was filming himself to broadcast onto the Internet. It made the video seem more personal, as though he was talking to _me_, not just a camera. I realized that could potentially be good for encouraging people to follow the video blog, as it would make them feel included.

I returned my attention to the video, hoping to learn more about Shane from it. I had already discovered that he was good in front of a camera, and I hadn't known Shane's _exact_ feelings about his father's decision - who knew how much more there was to find out about him? And I wanted to find out more...

_"I'm not meaning to sound like a selfish whiney brat - I'm sorry if I'm coming across that way. I'm not normally like this - I'm just a little mad, that's all._

_"In any case, things seem to be working out. I've found a school where I can go, do all the subjects I want to do, with the same exam boards as I started them with. It's not a brilliant school, but I think I'll be okay. It could have been worse._

_"But enough of that. I'm... not really sure what else to say._

_"I'm extremely interested in science, and I want to become a forensic scientist when I'm older. I enjoy a good puzzle, and a good mystery. I read a wide variety of books - though my favorites are typically mystery, crime, that kind of thing. Music... I don't play an instrument; I'm not really musical in that way... But I do enjoy listening to music. It helps me to shut out my surroundings so that I can think properly."_

I smiled slightly, noticing that we had that in common - I also used music as a way to shut things out and help me to think. But then the smile melted, as I remembered how I often had to use it to shut out Kate and get to sleep...

_"I start school tomorrow. I've no idea what to expect - new town, new school, new people... everything is different. Who knows? Maybe I'll make a friend... That would be nice - I've never had friends before. I guess I keep myself to myself too much._

_"But whatever tomorrow will bring is for tomorrow. Today, I think I've given you enough basic information to get a small idea as to what kind of person I am. Therefore, I bid you a fond farewell."_

The video ended there. Shane turned to me, nervously. "What do you think?"

I nodded, smiling. "It's great!"

"Really?"

"Yes - you're really good in front of a camera."

"You... You mean it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I do - what would be the point in lying? You're completely relaxed - not nervous like a lot of people would be. You talk to the camera as you would an actual person, which I think is a good in a video blog."

"Thanks."

We sat in silence for a moment, as neither of us knew what to say. Finally, it was Shane who broke the silence.

"When you said that you could help, did you mean for just the one video, or... or on a more permanent basis?"

"It depends," I replied. "It's your video blog, so it's up to you."

He shrugged. "Would you _want_ to be a permanent part of it?"

I considered it for a second and realized that, to my surprise, I did.

"Yes," I told him. "I'd like that."

"In which case..." He opened up an Internet page, and went onto Gmail. "I'll create a special email just for the channel, one we can both access - that way we can both post videos, see comments and all that stuff."

"Sounds good."

I watched as he typed _'Shane&Kenzie'_ as the username. He paused at the password and looked to me.

"It'll have to be something memorable, but only we would know," he mused, by way of asking me for ideas.

I thought for a moment, before mutely writing on a piece of paper, _'Holmes'_.

He nodded, and then typed it in.

Once the Gmail account had been finished, he created a YouTube channel for it and posted the first video. He then minimized the window, and opened up the software for the webcam.

"Do you want to film the next one?" he asked.

I nodded. "Sounds good."

I started to get off the stool. He saw this and frowned.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Well, it would probably be better if you do some kind of introduction before you spring a new person on them."

He considered it for a moment. "True."

I stood out of the view of the camera as Shane positioned himself and pressed record.

"Hi - it's me again," he said. "First thing's first, there are a couple of important things I forgot to mention in the last video."

Watching him as he was filming, I realized that one of the reasons that, when you watched his videos, it felt as though he was speaking to you personally, was because of where he looked.

While many people, when filming themselves, would look at their image on the screen, Shane ignored his image and gazed straight into the lens of the camera as he spoke. This, to someone watching the video, gave the illusion of him looking directly at _them_.

Whether he did it consciously or not, it was certainly a smart thing to do in these circumstances.

"In regards of the titles of the videos," he continued, "the titles of videos for the main blog will simply be the date they were filmed - despite the fact that they may not be posted on the same date. If we should post any other videos, ones that are not a part of the blog, so to speak, the title will include the date and some form of short description of what it includes - for example..."

He paused for a moment, before turning to me. "I'll edit this out, but just so you know - at that point, when I edit, I'll add a subtitle with an example of a random title. I still need to come up with what that example will _be_..."

"_'Shane Dances'_?" I suggested with an amused smirk.

He considered it for a second. "Good one."

He noted down on a scrap piece of paper the words _'9/10/12 Shane Dances'_ as a reminder for later when he did the editing.

He turned back to the camera. "Not that you'll be seeing me dance," he joked. "That's _definitely_ not going to happen - I don't dance."

He shook his head. "In any case, that's how the titles will work. In terms of when we post videos, I think we'll aim to post at least once a week. Haven't quite decided, but I think that will work well."

He laughed. "I've probably already given this away, because I think I keep saying _'we'_. But, in case you _haven't_ worked it out, I'm no longer intending on running this blog on my own. If you remember, yesterday I said that _'maybe I'll make a friend'_ at my new school. Well... I did."

There was a pause, and I took that as my queue to sit down.

Shane turned to me. "Do you want to introduce yourself, or should I."

"I'll do it," I replied.

I turned to the camera and tried to look directly into the lens, as Shane had been doing. The image of myself on the screen was rather distracting, but I did my best to ignore it.

"Um, hi," I said, rather awkwardly. I swallowed my nerves, and did my best to appear more confidant. "I'm Kenzie... Kenzie Riverston. Shane and I are in the same form, as well as a few of our classes. That's how we met - Shane was put next to me in double chemistry this morning."

Not a lie - that _was_ how we met. Just not how we became friends. I knew that Shane understood exactly what was going through my head. This was what we would tell people, should they ask - nobody need ever know about what happened on the rooftop today.

"Though, currently, we don't share many lessons, I have a feeling that's going to change, given a few weeks - the school placed Shane in the middle set for everything, but when they realize how smart he is they'll bump him up to the top sets, of that I am sure."

Shane rolled his eyes. "You're supposed to be talking about yourself, not me."

"I'm just informing the viewers of a couple of _other_ things you neglected to say in the previous video. Like the fact that you are extremely smart."

"No where near as smart as you," he argued.

"One - you don't know that - and two - that's beside the point."

He shook his head submissively. "Just... tell them something about yourself - like some of the things we were talking about earlier. Hobbies, likes, dislikes, that kind of thing."

"Right..." I thought briefly about what to say. "Well... As I told Shane earlier, I like reading, I love music... I dislike my mother, Kate, mainly because she is a drunk and she makes it quite clear that she hates me and wishes I were never born." I decided not to elaborate further than that. "I'm also not overly fond of the way most my fellow students - and when I say _'most'_, I mean all but Shane - treat me." I paused, trying to think of what else to say. I didn't want to say too much, but I had to say _something_... In the end, I just shrugged. "I guess that's it, really. That's all the basic things to know about me." I turned to Shane. "Edit this out but... was that ok?"

He nodded, giving me an encouraging smile. "That was great." He turned to the camera. "So... I guess that's it for tonight. See you next time." He stopped the recording, then turned back to me. "You happy with that?"

I gave him a look. "It's _your_ video blog, it doesn't really matter what _I_ think."

"It's _our_ video blog," he corrected, "and it _does_ matter what you think. So are you happy with that?"

I nodded. "Yes. I am."

The next hour or so was taken up by editing. We ended up laughing a lot and arguing, good-naturedly, about what parts to cut out (I, on the one hand, had wanted to cut out a lot of what I had said, whereas Shane wanted to keep it all in).

By the time we had finished editing, had posted the video and talked a bit more, it was getting rather late. So late, in fact, that Shane asked if I wanted to stay for dinner.

"Oh no, I... I don't want to overstay my welcome," I told him.

"It wouldn't be overstaying your welcome," Shane reassured. "My parents would love a chance to talk to you and get to know you properly - especially Dad, who hasn't even _met_ you yet. And Mum _always_ cooks too much, so there'll be enough food."

The prospect of a proper meal was extremely tempting, but...

"It's a very kind offer, but... Whether or not you and your parents consider it as such, I'd still feel like I was overstaying my welcome. Maybe another time?"

"All right," Shane sighed, resignedly.

I frowned. "You're not _just_ making that offer to be kind, are you... There's some kind of ulterior motive here, isn't there? You _want_ me to stay for dinner."

He looked a little guilty. "Yeah... Actually, it's more that I want you to stay for as long as possible. I'm scared that you'll change your mind... about... you know..."

I nodded. I did know. A tiny part of me felt a little hurt that he didn't trust me enough to trust that I wouldn't end it all... But it was only a tiny part. The rest of me understood why he was worried - and I realized that, if I were in his position, I would be worried too.

"All right," I relented. "I'll stay for dinner."

He smiled, relieved. "Great."

* * *

**So, that's it for today. Just thought I'd let you know, the next chapter was originally going to be the ending of ****_this_**** chapter, but it was getting a bit long, so I cut it in two. In any case, this means that I'm not sure how long it will be...**

**On another note, I can't remember if I mentioned it last chapter, but I have a list of story ideas on my profile and a poll - please could you check this out and if you spot a story on this list that you like the sound of, could you vote for it please? I ask this because I have almost finished one of my other stories, and when this has happened I think I will consider starting on another one.**

**So! Please review! Tell me what you think! Please! Tell me how to improve, tell me what you like, tell me what you dislike, tell me your thoughts, help me make this story better!**

**Till next time!**

**_MS._**


	7. Mordens and Riverstons

**Disclaimer: I do not own the TV series, Sherlock. That rightfully belongs to the BBC. I also don't own the song ****_'Carry on Wayward Son'_**** or its lyrics, they rightfully belong to the band ****_Kansas_****. I only own the majority of the plot (the parts I don't own are the parts where the story crosses over with series 3), and the OCs, details of whom can be found on my profile.**

**First things first, I'd like to warn you all that, later on in this chapter, there is a lot of swearing/insults/profanities. I, myself, do not approve of the use of such words/phrases, however I feel that as a writer it is my duty to portray characters accurately - so, as I have always imagined this particular character as the type to use excessive amounts of swear-words, insults and profanities, particularly when addressing a certain other character, I have included this character trait in my writing. If you do not like this, I can only say that this character will only feature in the odd chapter and that this character is the only one who will swear ect this much - if not at all.**

**Next up, for anyone who ****_is_**** reading this, I'd like to ask for your advice - I'm finding that not many people seem to be reading this story, and I have a feeling it's because of the description. I think that it's because people are looking in the description, seeing that it has no mention of Sherlock ect, and so ignoring it. The only solution I can think of for this problem, is mentioning that Kenzie is Sherlock's daughter - but I don't really want to do that, as I always wanted it to be a surprise for the readers when that comes into the story. What do you suggest I do? Keep the description the same; mention Kenzie's identity; or something else (all suggestions and ideas are welcome).**

**So, I apologize for this chapter being so short - as I mentioned last time, it was originally going to be the ending of the last chapter...**

**Thank you to ****_TheShapeshifter100_**** who reviewed: Firstly, before I actually reply to your review, I'd just like to say that yesterday I was reading your profile, and I noticed that you said you'd been thinking about changing the title of a future story, ****_'Don't Fear the Reaper'_****, because you realized that another writer on FanFiction also planned on giving a future story that name... given that I have put on my profile ideas for a story with that name, I'm guessing that writer was me, and so I'd like to say; Don't change the name of the story because of me! Honestly, I don't mind if you give your story that name - it's just a name, after all. Heck, even in the professional world, books end up with the same name (eg, ****_'The Lost Prince'_**** by Julie Kagawa and ****_'The Lost Prince'_**** by Frances Hodgson Burnett). So really, don't change the name just because we both independently managed to come up with the same story name. Thank you for the information about video-blogging (having not even created a YouTube account, let alone a blog, I am really inexperienced in this field of knowledge) and I will be sure to bear it in mind - when I finally get round to editing the story, I'll sort out that chapter, and in future chapters I'll remember your advice. Thank you! :D As for ComicCon, I hope you really enjoy it, and let me know what you end up cosplaying (I hope you manage to get your costume sorted as it looks like it would be an awesome cosplay) so I can keep an eye out ;). Thank you so much! As for RE... I wish it weren't true, but yes... I had to sit through that once a fortnight. It was not pleasant.**

* * *

Chapter 7 - Mordens and Riverstons

Kenzie's POV

Dinner started out uneventful - I met Shane's father, Matt, and we all made small talk.

Matt seemed to be a hard-working man, dedicated to his work. He had dark, slightly curly hair, a short beard, and startling blue eyes. He seemed nice, if a little strange in his way of thinking. He was just as welcoming to me as his wife, and was very pleased to hear that I would be staying for dinner.

"Of course it's okay for you to stay for dinner - it gives me a chance to get to know you," he had replied when I asked if he minded.

We sat down at the table, and started eating. Dinner comprised of beef, peas, and mashed potato. It was _heavenly_.

"So Kenzie," Lissa asked, "what subjects are you taking for GCSE?"

"Well, I'm taking all the core subjects," I replied, "and my option subjects are triple science, history, law and music."

"That's quite a range of subjects," Matt commented.

I shrugged. "Science and history interest me, a good knowledge of law would be useful in the career I hope to pursue, and I... I love music."

"The career you hope to pursue? What career is that?" Shane asked, curious.

I blushed, a little embarrassed. "Well... I know I'll have to work towards it, but eventually... I'd like to be a detective inspector, for Scotland Yard."

"That's quite a specific plan you have there," Lissa commented. "Shane's like that - he's got his future all planned out."

"You know, talking of detectives, what do you think of that Sherlock Holmes, the one who's been in the news?" Matt asked.

Shane looked up sharply at his father's words, his alarm at the direction of the conversation barely hidden.

I frowned. "He's still in the news?" I wouldn't know - ever since his death, I'd been avoiding watching the news.

Matt shook his head in disbelief. "I know, it's ridiculous - I mean, for goodness sake, the man was a fraud, the world found out, so he took his life. What's the big deal?"

"So Kenzie, you said you love music." Shane intervened, his voice sounding slightly more forceful than was normal. "What kind of music do you like?" When his parents weren't looking, he gave me a half worried, half apologetic look.

"Well, I don't really have a preference - I like a wide range of music," I answered, repeating what I had told him earlier today. "But if I _had_ to choose a favorite song, it would be _'Carry On Wayward Son'_ by _'Kansas'_."

After that, the conversation went back to small talk. But the atmosphere had changed - Lissa seemed confused about Shane's sudden desire to change the subject, Matt seemed curious about it. Shane was silently worried about me and how I was feeling, and I... I wasn't sure _what_ to feel.

* * *

After dinner, Shane and I went back to his room. As soon as we were in and the door was shut behind us, he turned to me.

"Oh God, Kenzie I'm so sorry... I completely forgot about Dad's opinion of you-know-who, I'm so sorry... I should have realized he'd bring it up..."

"Shane, it's okay." Weirdly, I realized I was telling the truth. "Don't worry - people are entitled to their opinions, it's the truth that matters."

He nodded. "Maybe, but the opinions can still hurt. And right now... That's the last thing you need."

I shrugged, not sure what to say to that. After a few moments of awkward silence, Shane spoke again.

"Well, in any case, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, dismissively. "It's fine, really - don't worry."

He still looked concerned. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "Positive."

We stood there, in silence, for a few more moments.

"I should probably go," I told him.

"You can stay a bit longer if you want," he offered.

I shook my head. "It's getting extremely late now. I need to get back to the flat."

He nodded in understanding. "Okay." After a moment's thought, he reached into his bag and pulled out his mobile phone - a Nokia Lumia, the one I'd saved from being confiscated earlier. "But when you get there, could you please text me so that I know you got home safely?"

I nodded, pulling out my own phone - a simple, cheap phone. "Sure."

We exchanged numbers, and then Shane let me out the flat.

"See you tomorrow," he told me.

"See you tomorrow," I agreed with a smile.

I left the building, and turned to start the walk to home.

* * *

I looked up at the grey, graffiti-covered building. The brickwork was beginning to crumble in places, and the windows were dark and grimy. Entering through the front door, I felt as though a heavy weight was being placed on my shoulders.

I reached the door to Kate's flat and stopped. The lock was shiny, new, and barely scratched - Kate had changed the locks again.

I left the building and went round the side to my bedroom window. I felt for the tiny piece of thread that would be poking through the seam where the window closed. I found it, and very carefully tugged on it. The window opened.

I dropped my schoolbag into the room, before climbing in myself. I closed the window behind me.

"Home sweet home," I sighed, sarcastically.

The room was exactly as I had left it; the bed, with it's plain white covers, was carefully made; the books, all of varying degrees of condition, were neatly stored on the over-flowing bookcase; the desk was covered in papers; and my school books were all neatly stacked in a corner. Then, of course, there was the stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke seeping through the cracks in the door.

I paused at the door. As much as I didn't want to go through it, I had to - I needed to find a new door-key.

I took a deep breath, and slid back the first lock. I paused, and then, figuring that I might as well get it over with, slid back the second, third and fourth.

I opened the door. The smell of alcohol and smoke became overwhelming, burning my throat. I quickly took in my surroundings with a grimace. Empty bottles, cigarette stubs and other miscellaneous rubbish littered the floor, the once-white paint on the wall was stained with dust, grime, and various liquids that, over the years, Kate had spilt in her drunken state, and the half the space on the bookshelves was taken up by china plates and vases - the rest of the space being empty, save for the shapes in the dust where china items had once been.

_'If I were Kate,'_ I thought, _'where would I hide the spare key?'_

A green and white vase on the shelves caught my eye - it had moved since I last saw it. True, Kate could simply have stumbled and knocked the bookcase causing it to shift, but if that were the case then some of the other items would have moved as well - which they hadn't.

I walked to the bookcase, and reached into the vase. Sure enough, inside the vase was a key. After pulling it out and inspecting it, I concluded that it was the key to the new lock for the front door.

"How the fuck did you get in here, you filthy little bitch?!" an unpleasantly familiar voice demanded.

I turned to see Kate, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a bottle of cheap champagne, home-brewed by some shady dealer who, judging by the message written on the label, had some kind of sick thing for her. Champagne was unusual for her - my best guess was that she had been celebrating the fact she had supposedly locked me out.

Kate and I looked nothing alike - for which I was glad. Whilst I had black, curly hair, she had dirty blonde hair that, if she bothered to look after it, would be straight. Her eyes, which were cold and hard as ever, were a steely-grey, and I was already about half an inch taller than her - clearly, I had inherited my father's height, not Kate's.

"Hello Kate," I said, cooly.

She narrowed her eyes. "Answer the fucking question, you no-good piece of shit. How did you get in here?!"

"I teleported," I told her, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I held up the key for her to see. "Thanks for the new key, by the way."

I slowly started to back away, going to my bedroom.

"Why can't you just piss off and leave me alone?"

"Because I simply _love_ living here." Once again, I laid the sarcasm on thick.

I turned away and made my way to the door.

Just as I was about to open the door, I sensed a sudden movement behind me and heard a quiet _whoosh_ of air.

Reflexively, I ducked, just in time to hear the sound of china hitting the door, hard, and smashing. I glanced at the fragments, which were green and white, to realize that it was the vase Kate had hidden the key in.

Before she got a chance to throw another, I slipped into my room. I then slid the four locks closed.

The door rattled on its hinges as Kate banged her fist on it repeatedly.

"Get out here, you worthless skank!" she shrieked. "Get out here clean up the mess you just made of my vase, or I'll fucking kill you!"

I ignored her as she yelled more insults, threats and profanities through the door. Instead, I took out my phone and texted Shane:

_Got home okay.  
KR_

I pulled my school books out of my bag and opened the first one to do the homework. English - write a page on how Diane Samuels presents fear in _'Kindertransport'_.

I grabbed my copy of the play and flicked to a random page. I started trying to read it, but I couldn't concentrate - Kate was still creating an awful racket.

I sighed and fished my iPod out of my bag. I plugged the earphones in, and turned the volume up, before pressing play. The music soon drowned Kate out, with the words that had, on so many lonely nights, been a comfort to me:

_'Carry on my wayward son,  
There'll be peace when you are done.  
Lay your weary head to rest,  
Don't you cry no more.'_

I turned back to my books, and skimmed through the play looking for some good points that I could make...

_'Hmm...'_ I thought. _'Well, I think Eva/Evelyn is afraid of separation... and whenever she is separated from someone, a Ratcatcher figure is present, so... the Ratcatcher is supposed to represent fear?'_

I thought about the idea for a moment, before feeling a vibration through my desk.

I looked up, to see that the screen of my phone had lit up. It read, _'1 new message from Shane'_. I unlocked the screen and opened the message.

_Ok, thanks :) btw, you didn't need to put your initials afterwards - I saved your number, so I know it was you._

I typed a reply:

_I know - the initials-at-the-end-of-texts thing is just a habit I have.  
KR_

A moment later the phone vibrated again:

_Ah ok. Well, see you tomorrow?  
SM ;)_

I smiled at his use of initials.

_See you tomorrow. Goodnight  
KR_

The phone vibrated one last time:

_Goodnight.  
SM_

* * *

Several hours later, all my homework was completed, and I was feeling tired and in need of sleep.

I pulled out my earphones, to discover that Kate was _still_ at the door. How on earth she didn't get tired or bored was beyond me - or it would be if it weren't for the fact that I could hear she was slurring her words even more than before. Of course - trust Kate to spend an entire evening drinking and trying to make me miserable.

I put my books away, doing my best to ignore her. I packed my school bag for the next day, before changing into my pajamas. I then got into bed.

I lay awake, trying to shut out Kate's drunken yells and my own dark thoughts. Unfortunately, both were proving difficult to ignore.

I closed my eyes, only to find my most haunting memories were waiting. Clear as though I were reliving it, I saw the moment I discovered my father was dead... I felt the moment I let my dark thoughts take over, I saw the rooftop...

My cheeks felt wet, and it took me a moment to realize that it was because I was crying, silently.

What I'd almost done... I had always been so certain I would never actually _do_ it, despite how I felt. But I had been wrong... if it weren't for Shane, I _would_ have done it, and I would be dead right now.

What if it happened again? I didn't think I'd have any reason to want to, now that I was no longer alone, but then again, only this morning I hadn't thought I'd ever try to do it. What if I let my negative emotions take control again? What if it happened, and Shane wasn't there to stop me?

I stifled a sob - I didn't want to die... did I?

I turned my thoughts to Shane - how kind he'd been, how friendly... how he had already started to change my life for the better. Earlier, I had been smiling and laughing, something I hadn't done in months.

Slowly, thanks to the reassuring thoughts, my tears gradually slowed to a stop. I had managed to chase the dark thoughts away.

However, there was still one thing preventing me from sleeping - Kate's incessant banging and yelling. That problem, however, was more easily solved.

I reached out to my desk, and picked up my iPod. I plugged in the earphones, before setting the playlist to play from the beginning again - from _'Carry On Wayward Son'_. I carefully wrapped to wire of the earphones round the iPod several times and tucked the device underneath the pillow, to prevent any possibility of me getting tangled in the wires in my sleep.

I shut my eyes, and concentrated on the words - I never knew why, but listening to the words of a song always helped me get to sleep.

_'Once I rose above the noise and confusion,  
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion,  
I was soaring ever higher,  
But I flew too high._

_Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man.  
Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man.  
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming,  
I can hear them say:_

_Carry on my wayward son,  
There'll be peace when you are done.  
Lay your weary head to rest,  
Don't you cry no more.'_

That was the last I remembered, before I drifted to sleep.

* * *

**So, what do you think? What do you think of ****_Kate_****? What do you think of the things that go on in Kenzie's head? What do you think of Matt? Who in this story do you like and dislike? Tell me your thoughts, please! Review!**

**Just so you know, when I write about the characters doing school work or homework, I will be basing it off things I had to do, so that I have the experience to be able to write about it properly. ****_'Kindertransport'_**** is an actual play that can be studied for English literature GCSE - it was the play ****_I_**** studied, so that's why Kenzie is studying it. In case you were confused about what the heck I was writing about, ****_'Kindertransport'_**** is about a Jewish girl named Eva who, a few months before WW2 started, she was one of the children the Nazis allowed to leave Germany to go to England. The play shows scenes from when she grew up, at the same time as showing Evelyn, a woman in her fifties who is revealed to be Eva, and her daughter Faith, who is just finding out about Evelyn's past. The play basically explores how Eva/Evelyn's experiences affected them. The Ratcatcher is a character in an old storybook Eva/Evelyn has (the story is the story of the Pied Piper of Hamelin), and the actor of the Ratcatcher also plays all the male characters (who can be summed up in the generic term ****_'Ratcatcher figures'_****). The play is as strange as it sounds - but actually kind of a good one to do for GCSE as there is a lot you can write about - but as I said, I'm having Kenzie study it as it was the one ****_I_**** studied, so it would be easy for me to write about her working on it. Fun fact: The first I ever saw of the TV show BBC Sherlock, was when my English teacher (after asking us if there was any specific actor/actresses we thought would be good as characters in the play) showed us the swimming-pool scene from the end of season 1, saying that he thought the actor of Moriarty would be a good actor for the Ratcatcher.**

**_'Carry On Wayward Son'_****by ****_Kansas_**** actually ****_is_**** my favorite song - I just felt that it was an appropriate choice for Kenzie's favorite, as the message in the words is one that she really needs to listen to. So, here is a link to the song - as I have never found a way to get a full link to work on this site, you will need to type out the YouTube address in the address bar first (if you don't know it, just go to the YouTube homepage - it'll be in the address bar there), then copy and paste the part I give you after it.**

**_'Carry On Wayward Son' by Kansas:  
_****/watch?v=orqnZBYEn38**

**Till next time!**

**_MS_**


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